Burning Bodies Burning Hearts
by katchfish
Summary: When Norway saw Denmark run into the burning house, he was positive the Dane would come out upright and conscious. Now, Norway was unsure on how to handle the situation. How could he help Denmark heal if the Dane couldn't even remember his own name? DenNor
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

For the first time in many nights, Norway was sleeping peacefully. Without Denmark to bother him, the Norwegian was able to close his eyes with no loud disturbances. The Danish nation had fallen asleep a couple hours ago. Everything was tranquil and serene until the magic using nation caught a whiff of smoke invading his nose.

At first, Norway brushed it off as nothing. Denmark probably got drunk and started trying to cook.

 _'_ _Wait a second…'_

Now slightly concerned, Norway began to wrack his brain for a possible source of the smell. Denmark was sleeping, Finland and Sweden were holding a movie marathon in Sweden's room, and Iceland was feeding his puffin in his own room. The Norwegian blinked his eyes open intending to go downstairs and figure out what was causing the smoke.

Norway, who was still under the effects of sleep failed to notice his most prized possession was still on his night stand. Normally, Norway would carry his hair cross everywhere but he was distracted by the exhaust-like odor.

Opening his door, Norway began to sweat from the sheer amount of heat radiating from the hallway.

 _'_ _What the hell is g—'_

Norway promptly froze when he spotted the orange glow making itself known from around the corner. Sprinting around the hallway bend, Norway's eyes widened in shock and horror.

The carpet was ablaze with a roaring fire, making it impossible to see the other side. Vast quantities of smoke were rolling off of the burning material in waves, making Norway's eyes burn and tear up. The blaze was growing rapidly, having no direction to spread but towards Norway.

He opened his mouth to shout a warning but luckily, there was no need. Apparently Finland and Sweden had been alerted by the smell of smoke and were already bolting down the stairs and towards the front door. Norway chose to be smart and follow their example. The rapid, thudding sounds of footsteps behind him told the Norwegian that Iceland and Denmark were fleeing right behind him.

Clearing the front door, Norway skidded to a stop by Finland who was frantically clinging to Sweden. The larger nation held a cellphone and it was obvious by his fast paced words that he was on the line with the fire department. Hearing the rustle of grass, Norway spun around to find Iceland and Denmark covered in soot but unharmed. The five of them seemed to have luck on their side, as no one had more than a minor scrape decorating their bodies.

There was no need for words of reassurance, just each others presence and safety was enough. Besides, Norway didn't trust himself not to break his mask of calm facade if he were to try and speak.

Now that the danger was gone, Norway looked back to asses the damage. Smoke was billowing out of the windows in continuous clouds of black fog. The fire appeared to have spread drastically, and was now encompassing the entire roof. If Norway listened closely, he could hear the sound of creaking and groaning wood of the roaring of the inferno.

Norway assumed the whole ordeal could have been worse. Everyone was unharmed and safe. Iceland was able to get out alive as well. As for the house, it was old and started to smell like mold so Norway didn't mind that it would probably end up in ruins. There was nothing of great importance inside…

 _'_ _WAIT.'_

Frantically pulling his hand up to feel his hair, Norway's suspicions were confirmed. His most prized possession was still in the burning house. The hair clip cross Norway had possessed for numerous centuries was most likely melting into a puddle on his nightstand.

"My cross…"

Norway whispered. Glancing over in confusion, Denmark voiced hoarsely,

"What'd ya say Norge?"

"My cross."

Norway spoke louder this time, eyes trained on the burning building. He had to retrieve his clip.

"My cross is still in the house."

And with that statement, Norway bolted back in the direction of the smoldering dwelling. The Norwegian fancied that he could have been in and out of the flaming abode in a second if it weren't for the strong, firm arms that encircled his waist and prevented him from moving. Norway began to thrash around, his mind set of finding his cross, even if he were injured in the process.

"Woah! Norge calm down!"

The last thing Norway wanted to do was calm down. His mind was in a state of turmoil, and logical thinking was the last thing on Norway's list of to-do. The Norwegian felt himself being lifted of the ground and transferred into another set of arms. These were a stronger set, but they were less warm and comforting. Norway immediately recognized them to belong to Sweden. He turned his head, only to meet a pair of ocean blue eyes. Their gazes locked, and Norway found he couldn't draw away from the dane's startling irises. Denmark's face was serious, devoid of the usual playfulness it showed. His posture was stiff and commanding.

"Listen to me Norge. You stay here and stay safe, okay? I'm gonna go get your cross."

Turning to Sweden, he then ordered,

"Don't let anyone follow me."

None of the nordics had time to react and grab the Danish nation before he went sprinting back into the house.

(Denmark POV)

Weaving through the burning house was quite similar to fighting on the battlefield. Dodge a melting piece of furniture. Duck under a burning support beam. Leap out of the way of a collapsing wall. Luckily, Denmark had participated in countless battles or else he would have been crushed long ago.

Over the din of the flames, Denmark could faintly hear the wail of sirens. He could tell the fire trucks still had a ways to drive before they arrived. Besides, Denmark had made it this far, there was no point in turning back.

The Danish nation twisted his way around a fallen lamp as he neared the stairwell. They seemed to be in good enough condition to support his weight. Throwing caution to the wind, Denmark quickly jumped up the stairs and reached the second floor.

The topmost layer of the house was in the worst condition out of the whole building. The fire had clearly started at the end of the hallway. Denmark could see the floor had already burned out. Sweden's room, which was closest to the source of the fire had been all but turned to cinders. Fortunately, Norway's room was the farthest away from the flames and therefore the safest.

Taking care not to directly touch the heated metal of the handle, Denmark chose instead to just kick down the door leading to the Norwegian's room. Most of the objects in the room were already ablaze and the smoke obstructed the Dane's view of the premises.

Denmark began striding quickly towards the dresser. He was running out of time to locate the cross, soon the whole room would be encompassed with the suffocating inferno. Finding no clip on the dresser, Denmark whipped around and faced the bed.

He spotted the clip immediately. Its metal surface reflected the light of the fire making it very hard to ignore. Dashing over, Denmark scooped it up and pocketed the object in his dusky black trench coat.

The Dane then began the precarious journey back towards fresh air. The beams in the ceiling were groaning louder now, and obvious sign that they wouldn't be able to stay stable much longer.

Denmark picked his way through the door and out into the hallway. The fire had spread to Finland's room and the smoke was even more besieging than before.

As Denmark turned towards the stairs, he hesitated. The five seconds he wasted in favor of glancing backwards at the fire cost Denmark the few precious seconds he had to escape.

Jumping at a sudden crash, he once again spun around to find a wooden beam had fallen from the ceiling. It was currently residing on the first couple of steps, making it impossible for Denmark to reach the bottom.

Not only was Denmark out of options, but he was out of time. Smoke and ash filled his lungs making breathing a difficult task. The Dane was currently loosing the fight against unconsciousness, and black spots were dancing in front of his eyes. Drawing breath was painful and no matter how hard Denmark's chest heaved, it did nothing to expel the substances from his lungs. His arms were littered with burns and scrapes. There was a particularly nasty scorch along the Dane's chest.

While he was struggling to inhale, Denmark failed to notice the snapping of breaking wood coming from right above him. A large support beam had been jostled from its original position by the ever-spreading fire. It descended rapidly, hitting the unsuspecting nation square in the back. The movement of the support beam dislodged other beams necessary in keeping the roof together. In the span of a few seconds, the whole roof had collapsed.

Denmark was knocked to the ground when the first log hit. The pain was beyond belief and it was a miracle he didn't pass out. The agony was intense, and spread throughout the Dane's whole body like wildfire. If Denmark wasn't currently trapped under a burning log struggling to breath, he would have laughed at the irony.

More logs began raining down and Denmark couldn't help but be thankful one landed on his head. He endured a short period of pure torment before his eyes slipped closed. The suffering was excruciating, the inferno was loud and bright, the logs were heavy and torturous, and the darkness that followed was welcoming.

(Norway POV)

Still trapped in the arms of Sweden, Norway watched in alarm as the roof of their home buckled. With Denmark still inside of it. The Norwegian let out a wretched scream of distress as his best friend was buried under the rubble. He had always thought of the Dane as more than a friend and now he would never be able to find out if his feelings were returned.

As the wailing sirens drew closer, Norway's flailing began renewed and he managed to break through Sweden's now slack hold. It was Norway's intention to race towards the house, but when his feet hit the grass, Norway's legs gave out. The Norwegian was unable to move from his spot in the dry and dusty soil.

Norway stared blankly at the destroyed dwelling as tears spilled onto his cheeks. He let out a wail of remorse and buried his head in his hands. Without looking up, the Norwegian could tell by the loud sniffles and sobs that the remaining nordics were grieving for the lost nation as well.

Fire trucks sped towards the flaming house and skidded to a stop directly in front of it. Fire fighters began to unravel the hose and slowly began to extinguish the fire.

Norway was unaware of how much time passed before the blaze had been , he never removed his head from his cupped hands. The distressed nation could vaguely make out the voice of a firefighter questioning another person.

"Sir, is there a person inside the building?"

"Y-yes he w-went back t-to retrieve an item."

"Can you tell me his name and what he looks like?"

"H-his name i-is Mathias. H-he has b-blond, spiked hair, b-blue eyes, and is r-really t-tall. He was w-wearing a b-black trench coat o-over his p-pajamas."

"Thank you for the information. Our team will find him, I promise. I need you to go sit down, and try to overcome the shock if you can."

"O-o-okay."

Norway instantly identified the voice as Finland's. He was probably beating himself up over not grabbing Denmark in time.

 _'_ _No, this is nobody's fault but mine. My stupid cross…'_

Norway began to sob harder and barely registered someone wrapping a blanket around his prone figure. Peeking out from beneath his splayed fingers, the Norwegian met the saddened gaze of Sweden. Iceland and Finland were standing a few steps behind the taller nation. Their faces were red and puffy from crying over the lost nordic. Even Sweden had traces of tear tracks still evident on his face.

Gradually the other nations made their way to Norway's side. Each nordic emitted waves of despair as they watched the firefighters sift through the remains of the dwelling they once called home. Norway stared blankly at the dying embers of the rubble. The love of his life was dead. The precious idiot— _his_ precious idiot was lying alone with glazed eyes and blue lips. The thought of Denmark's corpse made the Norwegian want to curl up alone and isolated for the rest of his life.

Iceland hated to see his family in this state. He had always had a sneaking suspicion the Dane meant more to Norway than he let on. This tragic ending was more than enough proof. Iceland had never seen the Norse nation show any emotion other than a blank face, or a well hidden blush whenever Denmark had been around. Seeing him shaky and sobbing broke the Icelandic nation's heart.

"Big brother."

Norway didn't so much as twitch.

"Big brother, please."

Norway just cried harder, tears leaking through his fingers and onto the already damp grass below. Letting out a few sniffles of his own, Iceland brushed his shoulder against Norway's own. He was going to stay there and comfort his older brother, no matter what happened. Sweden and Finland had come to an unspoken agreement, they would stay and grieve too.

The remaining nordics resumed staring at nothing, all the while reminiscing over pleasant memories of the lost Dane, hoping beyond hope that this whole incident was just a terrible nightmare that would end when the sun rose.

Unfortunately, the sun did rise and Norway's tear ducts had dried out hours ago. His face was blotchy and red, and his eyes were puffy and swollen.

"Big brother we should leave."

Norway's eyes widened is surprise. He couldn't leave! Denmark was still here! This whole thing was just some elaborate, stupid prank the Dane was pulling. Norway would wait for the idiot to come skipping out of the ruins, perfectly unharmed and glowing so he could yell at Denmark himself.

"No."

"We can co—"

"No."

"Big brother we ne—"

"NO! I'M NOT LEAVING! That idiot is still alive and I'm not going to leave him here!"

Norway panted, he was exhausted from the long night and had put most of his remaining energy into yelling. The other nordics looked at him sympathetically. The first stage of loss is denial, and it was bound to cross Norway's mind sooner or later. The others were worried about the Norwegian's reaction to Denmark's death. It wasn't healthy, and they needed to get him away from the sight of the accident.

Right before Iceland was about to insist on Norway's compliance, a lone voice rang out from the wreckage. The firefighter sounded frantic, and was rapidly issuing orders to his colleagues.

"Call a medical team, stat! Subject is surrounded by blood and heavily scarred. I Need medical assistance immediately! It's unclear whether the subject is breathing!"

Norway sucked in a sharp breath. Sweden and Finland glanced at each other with wide eyes, and Iceland tightened his hold on Mr. Puffin. After the longest minute of Norway's life, he heard the firefighter's voice ring out one more time.

" The subject is breathing. We've got a survivor!"

—

 **I am a huge sucker for DenNor. I'll update soon! Review and tell me if this is any good.**

 **~ anti-pineapples**


	2. Chapter 2

**The nation's use human names so no one discovers their identities. (obviously)**

 **Denmark - Mathias**

 **Finland - Tino**

 **Iceland - Emil**

 **Norway - Lukas**

 **Sweden - Berwald**

Chapter Two

Norway frantically scrambled towards the body of Denmark, the other nordics following close behind. Several other firefighters and paramedics had arrived at the scene, and were preparing to heave the limp form onto a stretcher. Shuffling around the crowd, Norway was able to glimpse the Dane's still figure. He gasped at the mangled sight.

Denmark was covered head to toe with soot and ash. A serious-looking gash trailed across his face and over his left eye. Blood spots were visible on Denmark's shirt, signaling severe injuries could be found underneath the lightweight cloth. The Dane's coat had not been spared, it was burnt beyond repair. His rapid breaths were shallow and barely detectible. Norway noticed something looked off when Denmark inhaled. Broken ribs? The Dane's eyes were closed, but his brows were scrunched in obvious pain. His skin was sallow and pale, taking on a milky quality.

Norway lunged forward shoving his way through the crowd, desperate to reach Denmark. Firefighters held him back, trying to explain that the unconscious nation's condition was fragile and he needed attention right away. As Denmark was carried off, Norway stopped struggling in favor of trailing after the parade of medics. Just as he was about to force his way into the ambulance Denmark was placed in, the Norwegian felt a hand on his shoulder cease his forward movement. It was Iceland.

"Norway, let the medics do their job. They cant help Denmark if you are in the way."

His younger brother's words made sense, but the rational side of Norway's brain had switched off in panic. He started forward again, intending to shrug off the bothersome hand. Norway's irritation increased when the insistent hand just tightened its grip. Iceland tried again.

"Denmark needs help immediately, Norway. Ride with us, we'll be right behind them."

Norway ignored his brother and once again tried to walked forward, and was halted for the third time.

" Norway, Denmark is dying! He needs medical attention fast and what you're doing is just getting in the way!"

This time, Iceland's words pierced deep into Norway's heart. It took him a couple seconds to comprehend what he had just heard. Denmark… dying? Denmark was definitely not dying, that was impos— _oh my god. Denmark was dying._

Shadows were gathering at the edge of Norway's vision. He blinked to clear them and met the horrified gaze of Iceland.

"No, big brother I didn't mean it! Denmark is fine! I'm sorry, look at me, Norway, I didn't mean it!"

The Norwegian nodded rapidly. For what felt like the hundredth time today, Norway found himself blinking away tears. He was pulled into the warm embrace of his brother who slowly led him to the car where Sweden and Finland were waiting, not unwrapping his arms once.

When he was nudged into the back seat, Norway finally got a good look at himself through the rearview mirror. The Norwegian's hair was matted and blew around his face without his clip to keep it back. There were purple bags underneath each eye which were made more prominent by Norway's already pale skin. Smudges of ash were visible on his face and clothes. Staring at the monster in front of him, Norway came to the conclusion that he looked like complete and utter crap.

The Norwegian was exhausted yet refused to sleep even when Iceland offered his lap as a pillow. He was determined to stay awake to see the beloved Dane.

The drive was shorter than usual, cars were practically jumping out of the path of the speeding ambulance. Sweden drove close behind, making it clear to the pedestrians that the nordic's car was involved in the accident. They zipped by numerous buildings, each one to blurry for Norway to make out. Or was that just the effects of his sleep-deprived mind?

Norway allowed his eyes to un-focus as he gazed unseeingly out the window. He daydreamed of better times when the Dane was still upright and lively. His best memories were with Denmark, and Norway couldn't help but wonder if he would be seeing him again. Norway snorted and pushed the negative thoughts to the back of his mind.

As he did this, the Norwegian noticed the car had stopped in front of a strict looking building. Casting a glance around to find empty seats, he clambered out of the car and followed his family unsteadily into the hospital.

Everything was white. How dull. Not a splash of color decorated the plaster walls except for the occasional small portrait of a scenic image. Security cameras were wired to every corner, and Norway couldn't help but feel slightly self-conscious as the four nations made their way to the front desk.

After standing awkwardly in front of the desk for five minutes without being noticed, the four silently elected Sweden to be the one to talk while the rest stood behind as backup. The Swede cleared his throat.

"Excus' m' ma'am. We ar' look'ng f'r Mathias Kohler. C'n y'u direct us th're?"

The woman behind the desk let out a bored sigh and began to type the name into her computer. Blinking lethargically she looked up.

"Mathias Kohler, blond hair and blue eyes. Involved in a house fire. He arrived here a couple hours ago, correct?"

Sweden gave a nod of confirmation.

" The doctors are just finishing up with him. His condition has stabilized for now, you will have to wait to see him. You can take a seat over there."

She nodded in the direction of a group of hard, uncomfortable looking chairs. The others seemed satisfied with it, but Norway was in no way pleased with the answer the woman delivered.

"That wasn't what we asked you. Where is he?"

The lady blinked in surprise. Clearly she had never been spoken to so harshly by a visitor. Her eyes darted over Norway's face, and then scanned the saddened expressions of the nations behind him. The woman's eyes softened in sympathy and she turned her attention back to her computer screen.

"I'm sorry. Mathias Kohler is in the ICU."

 _'…_ _The Intensive Care Unit?'_

Norway's swirling train of thought froze and yet a little voice in the back of his mind told him that this was to be expected. He has seen with his own eyes the taller man's condition. Why wouldn't he be in ICU? The Norwegian nodded mutely, a little paler than usual. Knees shaking, he stumbled over to a chair and sat down heavily. He then proceeded to tune out the other nordic's callings in favor of studying the pattern of the ceiling tiles above.

Norway could tell by the silence around him that the other nordics had given up trying to make contact with the unresponsive nation. Stealing a quick glimpse around, the Norwegian saw his companions in varying stages of depression.

Finland had silent tears steadily dripping down his face. The nation didn't bother to clean them up, but instead rested his head against Sweden's shoulder. The Swede looked down at his 'wife' and ran a soothing hand through Finland's hair. His eyes were downcast and filled with sorrow.

Iceland was absent-mindedly playing with Mr. Puffin's feathers as the bird settled into his lap. The Icelandic nation simply stared off into space as he waited for the go-ahead to see Denmark. The Dane was like an adopted big brother, not that Iceland would ever admit it out loud.

Soon after they had settled, a doctor walked out of a room and into the hallway. He reviewed his clipboard and called out,

"Family of Mathias Kohler? You are free to see him now. A full diagnosis of his ailments will be delivered to you within 30 minutes."

Norway didn't wait for the doctor to finish his speech, the nation was already up and running towards the door the doctor had retreated from. His hazily heard the doctor call out to him but the Norwegian simply ignored him. He tugged open the door of room 605 and stepped inside.

* * *

Iceland turned to face the hassled looking doctor. He was currently yelling at Norway to not go in the room quite yet. During the operation, the doctor had noticed there were some unforeseen injuries that had been inflicted upon the Dane. Wait, what did that mean?

He would have asked exactly that, if Finland hadn't beaten him to it. The normally chipper nation was now glaring fiercely through his tears at the doctor.

"What do you mean unforeseen injuries?"

The Finnish man question sharply, taking a stride forward so he was nose to nose with the other man. The doctor stepped back, a nervous expression evident on his features. He looked down at the dreaded clipboard again and began speaking in a slow, empathetic voice.

After the doctor was finished talking, Iceland sprinted towards the room Norway entered with the other nations running at his heels.

* * *

Norway looked upon the bed ridden nation. His glorious blue eyes had opened and were studying the room around him. The ocean-like orbs had jumped towards Norway as soon as he had stepped through the doorway.

The Norwegian felt a thrill throughout his body. He had hoped and prayed to see those eyes again. The negative thoughts that had began to eat away at his brain evaporated at the sight of the Dane's blue irises.

What shocked the Norwegian was that Denmark hadn't made an attempt to speak yet. In a normal situation, the Dane would blabber on about crappy hospital food or how stupid it was that he couldn't get out of the itchy gown the nurses had dressed him in.

 _'_ _Maybe this ordeal was more traumatizing than I thought.'_

Denmark was probably still in shock from his near death, so talking steadily might be hard for him. With this thought, Norway opened his mouth to question the Dane on his wellbeing. If all went according to plan, he would then yell at Denmark for being an idiot and running back into the house, and later apologize for sending him there since it was technically Norway's own fault that Denmark and been injured. Once the Dane fell asleep, Norway would kiss his forehead and everything would be back to normal. His perfect dreams were shattered when Denmark bluntly interrupted his inquiry.

"Denmark are y—"

 _"_ _Who are you?"_

* * *

 **Man, I live for suffering and torture.**

 **Oh yeah, I forgot to add a disclaimer: I don't own hetalia, the characters, yada yada yada.**

 **~ anti-pineapples.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I MADE BLOOPERS AT THE END. Sorry I couldn't help it, they aren't even that funny.**

Chapter three

 _His perfect dreams were shattered when Denmark bluntly interrupted his inquiry._

 _"_ _Denmark are y—"_

 _"_ _Who are you?"_

Everything was a jumbled and confusing mess. Who were these people who claimed to know him? Mathias knew for a fact, he would never associate with people who claimed to be nations. And they thought _he_ was crazy.

Mathias stared numbly at the dumbfounded 'nations.' The small, long haired one who claimed to be Norway was shaking as he stared at him. The tall, intimidating one and the person clinging to him looked quite shocked. The teenager holding a… puffin had his eyes closed and appeared to be processing the situation.

While he was studying the strangers, Mathias didn't notice 'Norway's' sudden movement until it was too late. Gasping, his eyes widened as the smaller person grabbed him into a fierce hug. Startling, Mathias pushed him away roughly as a scowl etched itself on his face.

"What the hell?!"

The other three tensed at the shove and prepared to calm the befuddled nation into a more passive state. There was only one problem with that plan. Mathias didn't want to calm down. He wanted to know who the hell these people were, and why he was in the hospital and couldn't remember anything. He wanted answers and he wanted them _now._

"Alright, you walk into my room right after I wake up. You start spouting crazy shit about nations and fires yet how come I've never seen you in my life?! I don't know you, none of you seem to understand that!"

The strange people looked appalled and horror stricken. Their brother, the first nordic, had no idea who any of them were. The thought alone made the present nations want to curl up and cry.

Apparently hearing shouting, the doctor rushed into the hospital room. Mathias scanned his named tag before launching rapid-fire questions about these people and the hospital. The doctor, Dr. Tomsen, hushed his frantic inquiries with a diagnosis.

"Mathias, I know this may not be comfortable for you, but what these people say is true. They are indeed your family."

"Then how come I don't know them?!"

"I'm afraid to say during the house fire, a beam fell on your head, causing severe damage to the medial temporal lobe. Judging by my observations, you no longer posses the ability to remember them. You're memories are gone, Mathias."

Mathias shook his head in disbelief. That wasn't possible. Yet the more he thought about it, loosing his memories was the only reasonable explanation to the predicament Mathias currently found himself in.

"Oh."

He muttered. Mathias could feel his gaze loosing focus and could do nothing to stop it. Maybe this was all a terrible dream. Maybe he would wake up and carry on his life as normally as possible. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. The word played like a continuous mantra in Mathias's brain until he could feel and think no more.

Maybe he would never remember his old life.

Maybe his friends would get exasperated of putting up with him and leave him alone.

Maybe.

Maybe.

"—nmark!"

The world around him faded to grey and Mathias found himself slipping into inky darkness.

* * *

"—ink he'll wake up, doctor?"

"It has been two days, I imagine he will be waking up soon. Notify me if anything happens."

Mathias slowly faded into consciousness as he heard the sound of receding footsteps and the slight thud of a closing door. He groaned softly and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Denmark? Are you awake?"

 _This isn't happening, please be a dream, please be a dream._

"Denmark, I can see your eyes moving through your eyelids."

Crap. The Norwegian lunatic was still next to him. _Maybe if I don't respond he'll go away._

"Denmark."

Not gonna happen.

"Denmark."

No.

"Denmark."

Dear lord, did this guy ever give up?

"Fine, have it your way. I'm leaving."

Mathias heard the fading sound of receding footsteps and a door slam. He sighed and slowly peeled his lids apart only to let out a shriek when he found dull blue circles two inches away from his face. The owner of the pair keeled backward in order to avoid a painful collision of foreheads. Mathias clenched his hands into tight fists and growled.

"Dude what the hell?!"

The eyes just blinked. It appeared the Norwegian was trying to keep an emotionless mask but Mathias could see right through it. Through the indifference he could see sadness, loneliness, and was that… longing? No way, Mathias didn't even know this guy! He pushed away the thought, but couldn't suppress a blush at the idea of him and this man being in a relationship.

"My name is Lukas."

Mathias startled, and started dumbly at the slender man.

"Huh?"

Lukas hid a small smile behind his hand.

"I'm glad to see you are still the same idiot that I used to know."

Mathias decided the ignore the uttered insult. Instead, he mulled over the name in his head. Lukas… Lukas… it sounded familiar yet no matter how hard Mathias thought, he couldn't put his finger on where he heard it before.

"Mathias I just want to let you know you can trust us. All four of us. We are your family after all."

Mathias harrumphed and crossed his arms. As if. Did Lukas expect him to forget everything the four said about being nations? Mathias was _not_ going to place his trust in a bunch of raving, lying, loons. His internal accusations were halted by the other man's refusal to be silent.

"Which is why you are coming home with us."

Mathias blinked owlishly.

"And no, you don't have a choice. We are more closely related to you than anyone else."

It took Mathias a full second to decide that one, he wasn't going to be shoved in a home with strangers, and two, if he was going to be forced, he was going down fighting.

"NO! I don't know you, you lunatic! You're all crazy!"

Mathias's screaming alerted the medical staff who rushed in with sedatives and needles. Lukas jumped off the bed as Mathias lunged towards the door. No way was he being dragged off with these freaks!

"You can't make me! No, I don't want too!"

Nurses latched onto his arms, trying to keep him from moving.

"Mr. Kohler if you don't calm down we will be forced to sedate you."

Mathias glared at Lukas with the intensity of a blazing fire.

"No! I don't want to go with them!"

He felt a sharp prick on the inside of his arm and began to feel woozy.

"I'm sorry Mr. Kohler, I'm afraid you have no choice."

For what seemed like the tenth time in the past week, Mathias's awareness fled and darkness took its place.

But not before he sent one last hate filled glare towards the wide-eyed man. The very same man who had snuffed out any real chance Mathias had at living a normal life.

* * *

 **Like I said, I couldn't help it. If you laugh, I'm glad but also surprised that you found it funny.**

 **BLOOPERS:**

"My name is Lukas."

Mathias startled, and started dumbly at the slender man.

"Huh?"

Lukas hid a small smile behind his hand.

"I'm glad to see you are still the same idiot that I used to know."

Suddenly, Lukas's eyes widened and took on a glassy, possessed quality and started belting out song lyrics at full volume.

"NOW YOUR JUST SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW."

The freaky tall guy, the small cheerful one, and the white haired teen slid into the room all wearing sunglasses. The three backup singers whispered.

"That I used to know."

"NOW YOUR JUST SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOOOOW."

Mathias promptly screamed and jumped out the window. He watched from a distance as the four were piled into a car that was driven to a mental facility.

—

Mathias glared at Lukas with the intensity of a blazing fire.

"No! I don't want to go with them!"

He felt a sharp prick on the inside of his arm and began to feel woozy.

"I'm sorry Mr. Kohler, I'm afraid you have no choice."

For what seemed like the tenth time in the past week, Mathias's awareness fled and darkness took its place.

Mathias could only think of one thing to say before he passed out.

"Hello darkness. My old friend."

 **Forgive me father for I have sinned.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

With wide eyes Norway watched as the doctors placed Denmark in his room at the nordic house. The Dane was still unconscious due to the strong sedatives he was placed under. The medics filed out of the house with the exception of Dr. Tomsen who remained to scribble a number on a post it note.

"Here,"

He said, tearing the page off and handing it to Norway.

"If anything important happens, call right away."

Norway pocketed the paper and nodded. He watched through the wide upstairs window as Dr. Tomsen drove away. He sighed and turned back to face the slumbering nation.

Denmark was pale and had dark rings bordering his eyes. The bandages that looped around his head were a fresh, pristine, white color. Norway had been instructed to change them every few days until the wound was healed completely.

Instead of panicking, Norway was tranquil. He had devised a plan to re-introduce Denmark back into he old life. It might take some getting used to, but Norway was determined to make it work. On that note, the Norwegian marched downstairs to talk to the anxiously waiting trio.

The three were huddled around the kitchen table, each holding a cup of steaming liquid. Norway felt their eyes follow him as he made his way over to the coffee maker and poured himself a mug. He sipped it, closing his eyes in content as the warmth from the coffee spread throughout his body. He opened his eyes when Finland began speaking.

"What happened back at the hospital?"

Norway felt his throat tighten and blinked to keep tears from pooling under his eyes. This was bound to come up sometime, he just didn't expect it to be their first question. The other nordics were curious and concerned as to why Norway came stumbling through the door with red eyes and a tear streaked face.

" All I did was tell Denmark that he was coming home with us. Then he freaked out and tried attacking me. He had to be sedated."

The only nordic shocked by this sudden change in events was Iceland. He was too young to remember Denmark's burst of anger during the Kalmar Union. Finland shakily sighed and Sweden merely grunted at the news.

"When will he wake up?"

Finland questioned.

"Within a couple days."

"What if he reacts badly to waking up here?"

"I have a plan."

Norway could almost hear the imaginary crickets that chirped in the silent kitchen. After a while of nervous staring, Sweden spoke.

"Wh't is y'ur pl'n?"

"I was thinking it would be easier if only one of us were present."

Norway blushed as they all stared at him. Iceland smirked knowingly and quickly agreed to his statement, causing the Norwegian's cheeks to flame red. However, the Finnish man was harder to convince.

"But—"

"Denmark would be more comfortable if only one person was here with him. It's easier to learn to trust one person rather than four."

Norway interrupted. Finland couldn't argue with his logical statement, so with a heavy heart he sullenly agreed to leaving. But not before he made Norway promise to call when Denmark's mind was healed.

 _If his mind heals._

The Norwegian banished the thought to the back of his head where it lingered and spread like a rotting cloud.

—

Throughout the span of a few hours Sweden, Finland, and Iceland packed their bags and readied for their trip north. They had decided to take shelter in a Swedish town called Malmö. It was a few hours drive from their current abode located in Dragør, Denmark. If anything were to arise, the trio could be there in three hours tops.

While the three were packing, Norway spent his time at the foot of Denmark's bed. He simply sat there and counted the freckles that splashed across the slumbering nation's nose. The Norwegian's mind was chaos. He forced it to calm and settled for dealing with one matter at a time.

The first issue, was Denmark's name. Norway would have to remind himself constantly to call the Dane Mathias, never Denmark. That would serve to freak the other nation out and he might get violent. He would also have to watch what he said about countries in general. Talking about nations like they were real people sounded like a really bad idea. Norway was disturbed from his musings by the flicker of Mathias's eyelids. He held his breath, waiting for him to open them, but the Dane just groaned and rolled onto his stomach. He twitched a bit, and then lay still.

Norway let out a soft snort of amusement. Denmark could easily sleep through nuclear war, it didn't surprise him when it became apparent that Mathias could too. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts Norway didn't notice his brother's approach.

"You really like him don't you."

It wasn't a question, both Iceland and Norway knew the answer. He jumped up and spun around to meet the other nation's steady gaze.

"I just came up here to tell you we are about to leave."

Norway nodded.

"Ok, I'll be down in a second."

A small smile crossed Iceland's face as he turned to leave. When he reached the exit, he paused to run a hand over the smooth doorframe.

"We have complete faith in you. If anyone can bring back Denmark, you can."

Norway was stunned. A compliment from Iceland. This kind of occurrence happened once in a blue moon, or even less often than that. Norway was gratified, and let it show through his eyes rather than speak. Iceland clearly received the message, and allowed the smile to widen before pulling it down into his usual grumpy expression and headed downstairs.

Norway studied Mathias's features for a few precious minutes before padding down the staircase. He crept into the entrance hall and faced the other nations. Goodbyes were brief, Norway was eager to get back to Mathias and the others were ready to get the road trip over with. Sweden grunted farewell and went out to start the ignition. Iceland hesitantly hugged his brother before chasing Mr. Puffin into the car. Finland wrapped his arms around Norway, his mouth close to the Norwegian's ear.

"Go get 'em Norge! Good luck!"

Finland stage whispered. Norway flushed crimson and hastily shut the door behind the cheerful man. Good lord, did everyone know about his small infatuation with the Dane?! He sighed. There was no point in denying it anymore. If Iceland and Finland knew, then Sweden already knew as well, or would find out soon.

Norway trudged up the stairs to the Danish man's room, this time only staying to check that Mathias was still sleeping peacefully. Now that the other nations had left, Norway was faced with a complicated and dangerous problem. Boredom.

The Norwegian ran through a mental list of things to do before settling on reading. There was never a quiet moment in the nordic household, but with three gone and one indisposed, all was silent. Norway decided to enjoy the serene silence to the maximum extent. He made a pot of coffee, and grabbed the fuzziest blankets he could find. Norway wrapped himself in a cocoon, book in one hand, coffee mug in the other.

No more than thirty minutes had passed before Norway was startled by a shout. He coffee went flying and landed in a steaming mess on the carpet below. Norway cursed , and readied himself to yell loudly at the buffoon who caused this mess. Before the Norwegian could bring himself to shout, he snapped his mouth shut.

 _Oh shit._

Norway madly dashed towards the staircase as the sound of incomprehensible screaming reached his ears. His pace increased tenfold when he heard a thump, and the shouting was abruptly silenced.

—

 **I adore cliffhangers. Sorry no bloopers this time, I couldn't think of any good ones!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Norway eyes widened as he entered the void room. Sheets were thrown to the side in a hasty manner and the chair by the bed was upturned. The open window sent the Norwegian into a frenzy of panic and distress. Bumping into a few walls, Norway clumsily burst through the front door. Squinting, he could just make out a tall, pale, figure before it disappeared over the rise.

The Norwegian scrambled back into the house and sprinted into the garage. He flicked on the lights and nearly yanked the car door off of its hinges. The vehicle was already speeding out of the garage door before it could even open all the way. Norway forced himself to maintain the speed limit as he drove down the deserted road. Forest stretched on for a mile or two before thinning out to give way to a cozy looking city. There was a good chance Mathias had made it to the suburb before Norway had arrived.

The city of Dragør was a bustling, if not a noisy place. People crowded the sidewalks and sweets shops were filled with customers. Norway envied them, talking and laughing without a care in the world. He on the other hand, was stuck worrying about an amnesiac nation. Norway decided that it would be easier to search on foot and parked the car in a secluded lot by the edge of the forest.

The Norwegian weaved through the crowds and peered into the lively shops and restaurants. So far, no luck. Norway's breaths were starting to quicken as his results on finding the missing Dane came up negative.

 _Alright, calm down and think this through. If Mathias is anything like the old Denmark where would he go?_

The answer came to Norway like a bullet. He cringed and cursed his stupidity. The Norwegian immediately took off in the direction of the nearest bar. As the nation walked in, his ears were bombarded with the sound of drunken singing and a bar band. _Please be here, please be here… yes!_

Norway spotted an unmistakable mop of blond hair through the mass of the crowd. He sighed in relief when upon closer inspection, the spiky hair really did belong to Mathias. He was still dressed in the cotton pants and shirt the hospital had supplied him with. The Dane glanced up from his mug of beer, not in the least surprised at his discovery. Mathias scowled and glared at Norway as he slid into the booth opposite from him.

Norway allowed himself a few, short minutes to collect the thoughts that were racing around his brain. This was a delicate situation, and if handled improperly Mathias might become even more aggressive than he was presently acting. If that were to happen the only two possible outcomes were getting punched in the face, or getting punched in the face as Mathias ran away again. The man across from him cleared his throat, clearly waiting for something to happen. Norway looked up to see piercing blue eyes staring expectantly at him. He let out an embarrassed cough and began to speak.

"You need to come back Mathias."

No response.

"You have no where else to go. I promise you can trust me."

This statement once again elicited no response from the Dane other than a blink. Norway flushed. He wished Mathias would stop staring with those gorgeous eyes. It was becoming awfully hard to concentrate.

"The others left."

At this, Mathias perked up, curiosity seeping into his stunning gaze. His reaction encouraged the Norwegian to continue.

"The other three I was with drove elsewhere. It will just be you and me. Do you think you can handle that?"

The Dane's gaze sharpened to furious daggers. Oh no. Maybe asking that wasn't such a good idea.

"Don't talk to me like I'm a damn kid."

True to his title, Norway appeared to be emotionless to anyone watching. Inside his head, he was berating himself for saying such a stupid thing. Attempting to recover the situation, Norway tried to backtrack.

"I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted to know if you were okay with the situation."

The daggers that were Mathias's eyes honed to needles. The Dane slowly rose from his seat so he loomed over the smaller man.

"I lost my memory and just found out that I am being forced to stay in a place I don't want to be. You claim to know me but I have no clue who you are! I can't remember anything even though I feel like I should, and you have the nerve to ask me if I'm _okay with the situation?!"_

Norway flinched as Mathias growled out random curses in various languages. Whenever the old Denmark got angry it was a terrifying sight to behold. Because it happened so rarely made the event all the more fearsome. Denmark's eyes would narrow to chips of ice and his fists would clench in anger. He never hit his brothers even if he was angry, even Sweden (though he was tempted too), but when another nation managed to piss him off they usually found themselves running for their lives from an axe wielding maniac. Judging from his limited experience with an angry Denmark, Norway figured it would take a while for Mathias to cool down.

The Norwegian was quite surprised when the Dane slammed his beer down and stalked towards the door. He growled out "Let's go.", flung the rickety door open, and stepped out into the street. Norway hurriedly tossed a couple dollars onto the counter and rushed after the taller nation. After making sure Mathias would follow him, the Norwegian traipsed back to his car. The Danish man slipped into the shotgun seat as Norway settled on the other side. He twisted the key into the ignition and turned on the heat. He placed his foot on the gas pedal and began driving back the way he had entered the city.

The ten minute car ride seemed to last for hours. Neither person was willing to break the silence. Eventually Norway cracked under the awkward pressure and opened his mouth to make a lame remark about the weather. Mathias beat him too it.

"Lukas."

It took a couple seconds for Norway to recognize the name. Oh yes, Lukas Bondevik. His human name.

"Yes?"

There was a brief silence before words sliced through it like a knife.

"Nothing. I was just testing it out."

The quietude that had faded upon Mathias's words made itself noticeable again in all its dreaded presence. Norway could feel his cheeks heat up and he gripped the steering wheel tighter. He struggled to piece together an intelligent sentence, but the fog that clouded his brain prevented him from doing so.

"O-Oh."

' _Wow. Wait to go, real smart.'_ He mentally berated himself. The tension between the two was thick enough to see. After a while Norway relaxed his clenched hands but the blush still lingered. A light tinge remained on his face until he pulled into the driveway of their home. Mathias remained silent as Norway exited the car and strode towards the front door. It was only when he reached it did he realize the Dane was still seated inside the vehicle. He shot a questioning look through the windshield. Mathias responded with a glare. Norway soon realized the problem and sighed.

 _'_ _How do I get him to trust me?'_

The Norwegian exhaled slowly and stepped towards the passenger carefully opened the door and stepped away with his hands raised non-threateningly.

"You can trust me Mathias. I swear to you, nobody will be in that house except us. Nothing will hurt you."

Mathias growled and sent a withering glare towards the smaller man.

"I'd like to see them try."

This was exactly what Norway had tried _not_ to do. He had poked the beast and now he had to figure out how to calm it.

"Listen, I know you don't remember me but I remember you. I know your habits, your favorite meals, where you hang out, and your odd quirks that are both annoying and special. I would sooner kill myself than hurt you."

Mathias's eyes widened fractionally as he took in Norway's words. What was with this man? The Dane didn't want to believe Lukas, but his heart told him yes. Though he couldn't remember a thing, something told him that he had known Lukas for an extensive amount of time. He decreased the intensity of his gaze and hesitantly stepped out of the car.

For the first time since the hospital, Norway let relief slip past his emotionless mask. Mathias looked minutely surprised by the development but tried to cover it up with another glare. The Norwegian smirked at the Dane's incredulity. It melted off of his face like water when Mathias turned his bright eyes to him. The beast had already been prodded, and ruffling him again was not on the Norwegian's to-do list.

They traipsed soundlessly along the gravel path. Walking next to tall Dane seemed to slow down time itself. Their closeness made Norway hyperaware of everything Mathias did, his rapid breaths, how his eyes flickered around nervously like a cornered wolf, and how he seemed to hesitate with each step. While he was observing the man next to him, Norway didn't realize that azure eyes turned their attention towards him.

"What."

It wasn't a question, Mathias spoke sharply and demandingly. The Norwegian jumped and his heart began to beat erratically at being caught admiring the man next to him.

"U-Uh, n-nothing."

He quickened his pace and fumbled with the keys, unlocking the door. He pushed it open and ushered the Dane inside. Norway led Mathias upstairs and to his room.

"Here, put on some real clothes. Wait over there."

Norway gestured to the bed with a sweeping arm. He made sure Mathias sat before turning around and striding into the closet.

The whole room smelled of Denmark. The scent of moor grass and a faint metallic odor wafted through Norway's nose. He stepped over to the shelves and found the object of his searches. A black trench coat hung in all its familiar glory. The Norwegian could feel his eyes starting to water but wiped them away quickly. Not now. He pressed the soft fabric to his sensitive nose and breathed in the scent he had grown to love and care for. A call from the bedroom interrupted his reminiscing.

"Lukas, what's taking so long?"

Norway tugged the coat off its hanger and made a grab at a deep red t-shirt. The majority of the Dane's wardrobe consisted of red and black get ups. It was all so familiar yet saddening to see it together. The Norwegian threw a pair of inky-black pants to the pile and hurriedly rushed out of the closet.

"Sorry, I had just remembered something."

Mathias shot a suspicious look at the Norwegian but received the pile of clothing with open arms. The hospital garments were itchy and uncomfortable. He held up the trench coat and glanced dubiously at Norway through the corner of his eye.

"Is this necessary?"

A jolt rocketed through Norway's spine like lightening. Looking back at all the time he had spent with Denmark, the tall blond had never once rejected his coat. Sometimes Norway would swear he loved that thing more than life itself. That and his axe, of course. Noticing the Dane still waiting for an answer, Norway rushed to cover up his mistake.

"No, no you don't have to wear that. I was just… conducting an experiment of sorts."

Mathias gazed blankly at his pale face with searching eyes. After a minute, he shooed the Norwegian out of his room to change.

Norway headed down the steps and into the living room. He stoked the dying fire and cleaned up the coffee staining the floor. He had just finished vacuuming the spilt mess when Mathias made himself known by the doorframe.

The clothes fit him well, and Norway had to force his head away from the tight shirt adorning the Dane's chest. Mathias was holding the trench coat in his hand, his fingers clenched it the fabric. The Dane felt oddly attached to the garment, and after a seconds thought, he slipped it on.

Immediately, Mathias felt safe and enveloped in warmth. The coat hugged his body like a familiar blanket. He was so wrapped up in the feeling that he didn't notice Norway staring until he had looked away.

After a minute of awkward silence, the Norwegian ambled toward the kitchen entrance.

"I'll make dinner."

He called out. Mathias nodded mutely and seated himself on the couch. The room had a homey aspect that made him feel at ease. He settled more comfortably onto the cushion and drifted off.

Meanwhile, Norway was busy in the kitchen. He had decided on making Smørrebrød, a well-liked Danish dish. It also happened to be Denmark's favorite meal. He hopped that Mathias appreciated it as well. After a short preparation, the Smørrebrød was steaming and ready to eat. Norway stepped into the cozy room laden with two plates heaped with food and a pair of mugs to match it.

Mathias appeared to be dozing but as soon as another presence entered the room, he jumped to full awareness.

"I told you, I won't attack you."

Mathias nodded in agreement though Norway could clearly see he hadn't earned the Dane's complete trust yet. He set one of the plates on the table next to couch and took the other with him to the armchair across from Mathias's position. He handed over one of the cups filled with coffee which the taller man tentatively accepted.

The two made little conversation, and instead focused on devouring the meal. Mathias was scrapping his plate clean in minutes. He hadn't eaten in days, this was the first decent meal that he had been able to digest. Norway noticed Mathias gazing at his own food longingly.

"There's more in the kitchen. You're welcome to—"

Mathias had leapt up by the first sentence and was already halfway to the kitchen. Norway quietly chuckled and followed the eager man, carrying his own clean plate and empty mug. He walked in to find the Dane scarfing down a second helping of food. Besides a wary glance, Mathias didn't react to the Norwegian's entrance. Norway leaned against the counter, content on waiting for his starving guest to finish. After ten minutes, Mathias placed his dish gently in the sink.

"Thank you."

Norway blinked in shock. Mathias thanked him?

"W-What?"

Mathias scowled and shoved his hands into the large pockets sewn into his coat.

"Stop. I said it once, I'm not gonna say it again."

The huffy Dane whirled around and stomped back into the living room. Norway rushed to follow him.

"No I wasn't making fun of you, I swear! I was just… surprised."

"Oh."

Once again, silence descended upon the household like a heavy blanket. It was impossible to ignore and difficult to remain unaffected. Eventually, Norway was fed up with the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Follow me, I want to show you something."

"Show me what?"

"Fine then, I won't show you."

Norway stared determinedly into the ocean-blue eyes. He wasn't backing down this time. The Norwegian was not keen on coming across as a wimp, who cowered at the slightest question. Eventually, Mathias jerked himself to his feet.

"Fine. Lead the way, oh mysterious one."

His voice was biting and laced with sarcasm. Nevertheless, Norway gestured towards the stairs and led the irate Dane to a heavy door. He glanced at Mathias and was glad to see curiosity etched on his face. The Norwegian shoved open the door to reveal a room full of weapons.

Spears, swords, and axes of every shape and size were scattered around the room. Some were mounted, others were thrown in piles. A couple wooden shields hung on pegs nearby. A large axe was displayed in the center of the room. Normally Denmark would carry it around, but since the accident Norway had placed it back on the wall peg, waiting for its master to come back and claim it. It looked slightly dull from lack of use, but it was still easily the most impressive weapon residing in the room.

Mathias's gaze swept around the room, absorbing everything in sight. His eyes were filled with wonder as they landed on the axe. The Dane felt drawn to it, and almost as if in a trance, he shuffled in its direction. Reaching a hand out, Mathias grabbed the hilt and twirled it expertly between his fingers. He swung it around with accuracy and precision. Wait… how did he know how to do that?

The Danish man stared at Lukas dubiously. The Norwegian man returned his gaze with a saddened smile. It vanished in a matter of seconds and was replaced by a relieved look. Norway was thankful Mathias remembered his axe, at least one part of the old Dane remained.

"I'm going to bed. You know where your room is when you're ready, just remember to close the door on your way out."

Mathias nodded and continued to examine his axe. He barely noticed the Norwegian slip out through the door. He stayed up into the late hours of the night, swirled and swinging his axe with familiar grace. When his arms could barely support its weight, the Dane exhaustedly existed the room, dragging his axe behind him. He shut the door and stumbled down the hall to his own room. Gently placing the axe by his bedside, Mathias barely remembered to remove his shoes before collapsing on the bed, clothes still on. He instantly fell into a dream-filled sleep, full of vikings and beautifully crafted ships. Mathias sighed contentedly and nuzzled his way deeper into his cozy, secure, trench coat.

—

 **Really long chapter. Your welcome. *Brushes non-existent dust off of shoulder.***

 **BLOOPERS:**

The two made little conversation, and instead focused on devouring the meal. Mathias was scrapping his plate clean in minutes. He hadn't eaten in days, this was the first decent meal that he had been able to digest. Norway noticed Mathias gazing at his own food longingly.

"There's more in the kitchen. You're welcome to—"

Mathias had leapt up by the first sentence and was already halfway to the kitchen.

"FOOOOOD!"

His scream trailed off as he laid eyes on the leftover bread. Norway watched disgustedly as the Dane devoured it, along with the whole pantry and the entire refrigerator.

"Dammit I'm still starving."

"Well too bad you literally just ate everything in the house."

Mathias stared straight at Norway, seriousness clouding his gaze.

"No. You don't understand. I'm so hungry I could eat a—"

Mathias was abruptly cut off at the sound of a mooing cow coming from outside. The Dane's eyes widened and took on a feral gleam. He grinned predatorily.

"MATHIAS. NO."

 **I think this blooper was even worse than the last one.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hope you like it! Happy winter break!**

Chapter Six

Norway had been awake for hours. He had made coffee, read a couple chapters of his book, and was currently making breakfast. It was a nutritious meal consisting of eggs, hash browns, and bacon. The Norwegian had hoped that the delectable smell of the greasy strips were enough to wake Mathias from hibernation. Apparently not even food could entice the slumbering beast. Sighing, Norway placed the food on the kitchen table and shambled up the stairs to force the Dane into the world of the living.

Upon slipping into the room, Norway found Mathias had fallen asleep sprawled out on his bed. His legs and left arm were splayed across the comforter and twisted into the sheets. His right arm trailed off the bed and appeared to be reaching for an object that was leaning against the far wall. It was the axe. Norway cracked a small grin at the sight of the weapon. He strode over to grab it but the minute his fingers brushed the handle, Mathias surged upward.

"SOMEONETOUCHEDMYAXEANDIWILLMURDERTHEMSLOWLYANDPAINFULLY!"

He screeched. The Norwegian flinched away from the iron blade, one hand clutching the fabric over his heart. If this is what a human heart attack felt like, he never wanted to experience it again. Norway looked up only to recoil from the burning glare of the man seated on the bed.

"Don't touch that. Ever."

Norway nodded and raised his hand in a defensive gesture.

"Okay, no touching the axe. Got it."

Mathias relaxed at the reassuring tone in the smaller man's voice. Although he still glanced protectively between his axe and Norway, his gaze had softened and his hands were no longer balled into fists.

"Did you want something?"

"Yes, actually. I just came to tell you I made breakfast if you want it."

"Oh, okay. I'll be down soon."

Mathias turned away and headed towards the adjoining bathroom. Norway had previously walked him through the basic functions of the shower and sink. Mathias was preparing to slam the door shut when the Norwegian cleared his throat.

"Mathias, what exactly where you doing last night?"

The said man cut off in mid-yawn to turn sharply around. A flush of heat gathered and spread throughout his whole face. Norway smirked at the blush that was present on the other man's cheeks. For once it was Mathias's turn to blush, not his! Mathias turned his head away to murmur something intelligible. He cleared his throat, waited for the red to die down, and tried again.

"I was in the weapon room with the axe. Is that a crime now?"

"No, of course not. I was simply wondering. Come downstairs when you're hungry."

And on that note, Norway strode out of the room, leaving a furious, blushing, man behind. He quietly sipped his coffee as he listened to the squeaky turn of the shower handle. He could hear the water running and splash off the back of the man—

 _Oh my god._

Denmark was upstairs. In the shower. Naked.

Norway's face lit up like a bright red billboard. He tried to steer his thoughts away from Mathias, but to no avail his mind refused to stray from its present course. The Norwegian was still blushing furiously even after he heard the water pressure switch off. He started into his mug, willing the fire to disappear from his face. Just as Norway felt the last of the blush fade, he heard of cough from the doorway. He turned to see a freshly washed Dane leaning against the wood.

Mathias was dressed in black jeans and a red shirt. He had apparently taken a liking to the color scheme. Norway was pleased to see the trench coat was draped over the Dane's left shoulder.

"Breakfast?"

Norway jerked his head towards the kitchen.

"It's in there. Get me a plate, I haven't eaten yet."

Mathias nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. The Norwegian closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. He cursed the milky pallor of his skin. Thank god he had forced the blush away while he did. A few minutes later, the Dane returned holding two plates heaped with breakfast food. He set one down by Norway and the other he carried over to the far corner of the room. He waited for the Norwegian to take a bite before digging in.

The meal was silent and the room was filled with tension. Anyone could see just how much Mathias didn't trust Norway. His shoulders were hunched over his food, and his muscles were taut and tense. He kept shooting furtive glances in Norway's direction, as if he would jump up and attack him any minute.

Neither of them cared for the strained atmosphere and ate at a rapid pace. Mathias finished quickly, and after putting his plate in the kitchen he disappeared upstairs. Norway sat in silence and watched the other man move around. Something seemed off about the way the Dane was acting. After waiting a few minutes he slowly crept up the stairs in the direction Mathias vanished in.

Norway rounded the corner and rapidly backtracked to stay out of sight. Mathias was standing stock still facing a door. Not just any door he realized, it was the door that led to the room where the nordics kept their special items. Items of great importance to them or played a huge role in their history. For example, the nations kept their flags and the old, tattered Kalmar Union flag in the room.

Mathias didn't blink as he twisted the knob and stepped through the opening. The Norwegian felt a twinge of worry for the taller man. What if seeing the flags triggered the remembrance of nasty memories? Mathias would react badly, and might run off for good this time. Norway was positive that if the Dane wanted to disappear, he wouldn't be found. He tiptoed to the open doorway and peeked his head through the crack.

Mathias stood as stiff and ridged as a board. If Norway didn't know better, he would have though the Dane had been zombified. The man looked pale and lifeless, his chest rose and fell shallowly. His gaze looked unseeing and far away. It was focused on the flags. Mathias stood in front of the flag of Denmark. To the sides of it were the flags of the other nordic nations.

After watching Mathias for a while Norway readied himself to confront the taller man. Before he could step into the room, Mathias jerked his head upward in a sudden movement. His cerulean gaze now rested on the Kalmar Union flag.

The moment the Dane's eyes lingered on the flag, Norway jumped into action. He could practically smell the danger of the situation. If Mathias recognized it even for a second, hell would break loose. During the Kalmar Union, Denmark went insane from grief, guilt, despair, and loneliness. His lust for power had grown, and in the end that's what tore him down. If that was the first thing Mathias remembered, he would surely go insane again.

Abandoning the quiet footfalls, Norway stumbled through the doors, startling Mathias from his reverie. He spun sharply around and snapped at the smaller man.

"What!"

Norway's eyes widened and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I w-was just wondering if you wanted to come downstairs and have a drink!"

Mathias's eyes narrowed suspiciously and took on a likeliness to sharp slivers of ice. He nodded sharply and stormed out of the room. Norway could hear him grumbling as he stomped down the stairs. The Norwegian breathed a sigh of relief at the close call. Praising his fast mind, Norway followed the sulking man at a slower pace. He passed Mathias toying with the remote to the television on his way to the kitchen. Norway heard the monotone of the television switch on as he rummaged through the refrigerator. He grabbed two beers and twisted the caps off in one quick jolt.

With drinks in hand Norway ventured back to the living room. Mathias was staring wide eyed at a live broadcast of Hans Christian Andersen. The famous storyteller was reading one of his own stories, The Emperor's New Clothes. Norway studied the flickering screen for a few moments before turning to the Dane in front of him. Mathias was still staring at the screen unblinkingly. His mouth was moving, silently mouthing the words Andersen was reading.

When Norway plunked down a bottle of the frothy liquid, he jumped and his gaze flew towards the Norwegian. He looked dazed as if he had just snapped out of a trance. He visibly shook his head and reached for the beer bottle. After failing two times to grab it with shaky hands, Mathias settled for turning back to the T.V. With the Dane's attention elsewhere, Norway took that time to study him.

In the time Norway was away, Mathias had encircled the trench coat around his body. With a pang of remorse, he noticed the Dane had buttoned it the same way Denmark did. It also appeared Mathias had found the stash of hair gel under the bathroom counter. The Dane's hair was spiked in the exact same manner it had used to be styled in. He looked so much like the old Denmark, Norway had to look away before the tears that threatened to spill over dripped onto his cheeks. He shuffled into the adjoining room before Mathias could see the wetness on his face.

Norway stayed locked in the room even after he heard the television click off. He ventured out only after he had cleaned up his tears and his face had faded back to it's normal color. He ambled out into the living room and spotted Mathias slumped over the couch. Either he had fallen asleep or—

 _Oh no._

Fearing the worst, Norway rushed around the couch. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw Mathias was holding an old photo album. Not just any album, Norway realized, it was filled with black and white photographs from World War II.

Denmark had been one of the first countries captured by Nazi Germany. At first the Danish people were not too badly treated, but then the rioting started. The Danes started attacking the Germans in the streets. They sheltered Jews and sent them over to Sweden where they could escape. This did not sit well with Germany who captured Denmark during one of the riots. He threw him into a cell where he was tortured for the crimes of his people. It had been Sweden who had found the Dane, beaten and bloody in a prison chamber.

Norway lunged for the photo album and snatched it from Mathias's grasp. To his surprise, the Dane didn't reach to grab it back or start yelling at him. Instead, Mathias blinked confusedly at the Norwegian.

"T-that was m-me."

Norway could do nothing but nod his head and place a hand on Mathias's shoulder in a calming gesture. He glanced at the Dane who sported a completely blank face. With a jolt, Mathias stood up and glared at Norway.

"No! You just put that there to mess with me!"

He advanced on The Norwegian, hands clenched in an aggressive manner.

"I didn't!"

"You did!"

"No—"

"STOP LYING!"

Mathias screeched. In a flash of movement his arm shot out and punched Norway straight in the jaw. The Norwegian fell backwards and lay in a dazed heap as the Dane stomped up to his room. The slamming door jarred the whole house yet barely made an impression on Norway. He vaguely heard the sounds of angered shouting coming from upstairs before his head lolled back to rest on the plush carpet.

Norway's gaze swam in and out of focus for the next few minutes before settling on unconsciousness. The last thing he saw before passing out was vibrant blue eyes standing directly over him.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The stabbing pain on Norway's jawbone was the most prominent aspect of waking up. His whole face was throbbing numbly with blinding agony. It took all of Norway's willpower to stay conscious and open his eyes. He found himself laying on the plush couch in the living room. Norway was covered in something warm— a trench coat? When the spots finally disappeared from his view, the Norwegian realized that the room he was in wasn't entirely empty.

"Lukas?"

Norway squinted at the looming figure above him. The man gazed down upon him with brilliant blue eyes. It was Mathias. Norway was confident he could recognize that man's eyes anywhere.

"Y-Yes? I'm a-awake."

Mathias stared at Norway for a few extra seconds before reaching downwards. The Norwegian flinched, expecting to be punched again. Instead, he was handed a bottle of water. He greedily gulped it down until the bottle was nothing more than a plastic shell. Norway handed it back and stared nervously at the taller man. Mathias was unpredictable, he would smile cheerily and make friends but the next second he could stab them in the back. If it weren't physically impossible for a nation to be diagnosed with a mental illness, Norway could swear Denmark was bipolar. Once again, Mathias's actions surprised him.

The Dane drew a chair over and sat down in it, tossing the empty bottle over his shoulder. He sighed at shot a look at the bedded nation before returning his eyes to the floor.

"Sorry for, ya know, punching you in the face. And stuff."

Mathias mumbled. To any stranger it would have sounded like the most insincere apology in the world, but Norway knew better. Denmark had never been one for apologies and was never good at saying them. What Mathias had just said was the equivalent of a box of chocolate.

Internally, Norway was beaming in glee. He forced down a smile and instead gave a nod of acceptance. The Norwegian pushed a stony and cold look onto his face to cover up the positive reactions he had always tried so hard to hide. Mathias looked shocked and slightly hurt at the expression that adorned Norway's face. He too covered it up by glaring at the offending nation.

"Whatever. Thanks I guess. Now gimme an ice pack."

Mathias grunted and trudged out of the room to grab ice from the freezer, glaring all the way. With the other nation out of the way, Norway let his cool facade break. He let out a groan of pain an he rubbed his sore jaw. Thinking back to the days of the Kalmar Union when Sweden and Denmark would fight, Norway remembered after every brawl it would take weeks on end for the bruises decorating the Swedish man too fade. Behind Denmark's punches was the power and glory of the Scandinavian kingdom. It was no surprise he could severely injure a nation, let alone knock them out.

Norway snapped out of his thoughts and quickly hid his hand under the blanket when he heard the sound of approaching footfalls. Mathias stomped through the door and tossed an bag full of ice at caught it right before the bag nailed him in the face. The Norwegian started to sneer but stopped abruptly. Mathias's scowl turned into a smirk when he caught sight of Norway's horrified expression. The Dane was holding up a mirror into which Norway gazed upon the extent of the damage done to his face.

A huge purple bruise marred the flawless skin of the Norwegian nation. A pealing scab had formed at the center of the welt, proving Mathias's strength. Norway shoved the mirror away from his face and huffed. The Dane placed the reflective sheet of glass on the small coffee table and snickered as he pursed his mouth in a smug grin. His facial expression made it evident that his apology meant next to nothing. Norway's face turned red in fury at he glimpsed the Dane's self-satisfied leer. He crossed his arms tightly and ground out,

"Go away."

Mathias was practically beaming at the tone of the smaller man's voice. He reveled in the embarrassment and anger directed towards his place next to the couch.

"Okay, fine."

Mathias gave a sarcastic, jaunty wave and strolled out of the room, barely pausing to slam the door, shaking the whole house. Norway fiercely ground his teeth together at the Dane's exit. Leaning back, he mulled over reasons why Mathias could aggravate him so easily. Only one other person he knew of could get under his skin so effortlessly; Mathias and… Denmark.

Norway tiredly scrubbed at his eyes and barely refrained from itching the swelling bump on his jaw. He yawned loudly and slid further down onto the couch. His rapid emotional changes had exhausted his brain and in turn, his body. The Norwegian wearily blinked, trying to keep the haze of sleep from overtaking his senses. To no avail, in a few short minutes his eyes had slipped shut and his mind had fled to the vast fields of dreamscape.

—

When Norway's consciousness winked into reality he noticed that the room was dark and shadowed. While his pupils widened to adjust to the limited light, Norway studied his surroundings and surmised that it was close to eleven o'clock at night. All was silent and unmoving in the dusky room. Norway welcomed the quietude and was well on his way to sleep when his eyes snapped open at a sudden noise. The Norwegian slid off the couch and landed with a thump. He straightened himself, flushing as he brushed his clothing off. Now thoroughly composed, Norway crept across the carpeted floors and towards the doorway. As soon as he crossed into the hall, Norway could faintly detect the sound of whimpering. The rustle of sheets and faint cries coming from the adjacent bedroom indicated a person in great distress. Rushing across the wooden tiles, the Norwegian grasped the handle and heaved open the door to find Mathias thrashing on his bed in the throes of a nightmare. The Dane's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and his hands were balled into fists as he clutched at the lightweight cotton.

Norway's muscles refused to move as he stared at the writhing nation. Only when Mathias emitted another howl of misery did Norway end his paralytic state by jumping into a panicked frenzy. He grabbed ahold of the Dane's shoulders and shook him as hard as his muscles would allow. Minutes passed and Mathias still had yet to wake. The man had begun crying in earnest, harsh sobs wracking his shaking frame. Norway started shouting aloud, trying to wake the weeping Dane. Finally the combined efforts of his arms and vocals caused Mathias to stir. With a yell he bolted upwards and his eyes snapped open. If it weren't for Norway's quick reflexes, their heads would have collided in a painful mess.

The horrid nightmare had brought the beast in Mathias forth once again. He looked around wildly and struggled to escape the Norwegian's grasp.

"Mathias! Mathias, listen to me! You're safe, it's okay! Mathias!"

After an extended period of time Norway's insistent screaming seeped its way into the Dane's awareness. He stopped jerking around and blinked owlishly up at the Norwegian. Tears still streamed down his red face and his bottom lip quivered, barely containing a barrage of pitiful whimpers. After a few, slow seconds, a look of recognition flashed across Mathias's bedraggled features. The crying man looked away shamefully and tried in earnest to halt the flow of salty tears.

Following his gut, Norway softly wrapped his arms around the shaking shoulders of the Dane. Mathias tensed but soon relaxed his posture when Norway seated himself on the bed beside him. The Norwegian let out a surprised gasp as the taller man threw his arms around his body. Mathias let his head fall onto Norway's shoulder as he let out a broken sob. The Norwegian felt his heart break in two as the once proud man wept openly in his arms. He laced his fingers through the Dane's matted hair and stroked his head comfortingly. Norway could feel Mathias's warm, shaky breaths on the crook of his neck as he rubbed soothing circles into the other man's back.

Hours went by before Mathias exhaustedly cried himself to sleep. Norway noticed the change only when the shaking had ceased. Even after the Dane's body went limp against his chest was Norway holding the slumbering man. The moon fled to make way for dawn and still the Norwegian clung to Mathias's lax form. Only when the first rays of sunlight seeped through the open window did Norway relinquished his grip on the Dane. He eased Mathias's body beneath the sheets and wearily plodded towards the exit. A mumbled name from the Dane caused him to halt his steps and turn back.

"Norway…"

The Norwegian's previously derailed train of thought started up again at full speed. Mathias had said Norway. Norway, not Lukas. Maybe Mathias was remembering him? Was it safe to call him Denmark once again?

Norway tiptoed to lean over the slumbering face of Mathias. He looked peaceful, yet something was wrong. The Norwegian studied the furrowed brow and flicking eyelids before coming to the realization of what the Dane was doing when he called out his name. Mathias was scared and lonely, and was reaching out to the only company he had come across. Norway doubted Mathias was aware of what he had said, and would have no recollection of it when he woke. Even with his newly surfaced doubts, the Norwegian couldn't bring himself to leave. His feet refused to move away from the man in the bed. Norway gave up trying to resist the temptations of a comfortable resting spot and Mathias's unknowing encouragement.

With little hesitation, Norway slid under the silky sheets that covered Mathias. Instead of bothering to remove his clothing, he climbed into the bed, socks and all.

Mathias shifted and murmured incoherent words in phrases as he slept. Every time he got restless, the Norwegian would reach out and pet his hair or rub his back in a soothing gesture. Mathias would still, but the minute Norway removed his hand he would squirm like a lost puppy seeking warmth. The continuous cycle repeated itself for another hour before Norway became too tired to remove his hand from the Dane's head. He wiggled around before molding himself to Mathias's sleeping figure, hand still gently placed on his soft hair. The Danish man's body could easily be compared to a billowing furnace, he radiated a constant supply of comforting heat. Within moments the warm body and pleasant atmosphere lulled Norway into a secure and dreamless sleep.

—

 **Im so so sorry it took me so long to update. I am currently visiting my family up in Missouri so I had to socialize. Yuck. I actually wrote a really long chapter that was around 4,000 words but I cut it in half and made it two chapters. Thats why I uploaded twice! Review please, constructive criticism is wanted!**

 **BLOOPERS:**

Norway snapped out of his thoughts and quickly hid his hand under the blanket when he heard the sound of approaching footfalls. Mathias stomped through the door and tossed an bag full of ice at Norway. He caught it right before the bag nailed him in the face. The Norwegian picked it up and was about to press it to his face when he noticed a muted screaming coming from inside.

"What the hell—"

"NORWAY DENMARK'S GONE INSANE HE SHOVED ME IN A ZIPLOC BAG!"

Norway turned the bag over to find a set of purple eyes blinking up at him.

"Iceland. Shut up and be a good icepack."

"OH NO, NOT YOU TOO?! I'M NOT EVEN COLD BLOODED!"

"Yeah well your angsty teenage death glare is cold enough for me."

"NORWAY WHA—mmmphhh?!"

The Norwegian promptly placed the bag on his jaw, ignoring the screams coming from inside. _Maybe if I ignore him long enough, he'll shut up._ Unfortunately for Norway, no such luck.


	8. Chapter 8

**Here's part two! If you have any ideas on what should happen next let me know.**

Chapter Eight

Norway let out a content sigh as he lay encircled in a cocoon of bliss. Plush pillows and silky sheets molded around his body. A cozy object was pressed against his back like a flaming hearth in the middle of winter. The Norwegian let out a whine when the wondrous sensation of warmth shifted away from its current position. He arched his spine and pressed it further towards the source of the heat. Norway crankily opened his eyes when the thing wiggled away yet again. He promptly froze when he saw what, or rather who the object was. The Norwegian couldn't decide whether to grin happily or melt in fear at his predicament.

Mathias and him were in the same bed. Spooning.

Norway frantically scrambled away from the snoozing man, nearly falling off the bed in the process. His senses shut down and had gone haywire. He could practically hear the alarm sirens blaring and spinning around in his head. Before he could do anything stupid, Norway tried to reign in his insane thoughts and attempt to compose his racing mind. After several failed attempts with no success, Norway decided he just about had enough of his uncontrolled brain. His desperation to contain his raging emotions left him with little choice. Time for Plan B.

With a loud _thunk_ Norway slammed his head into the wooden headboard that held the mattress in place. He bounced back, mind reeling. _Bad idea. Very very bad idea._ The Norwegian let out a puff of air through clenched teeth as he rubbed the developing bruise that was now displayed in all its glory on his forehead. Oh joy, he had a matching set of purple bumps that marred his face. Hooray.

A drawn-out groan startled Norway from his sulking. Just his luck, he had a new bruise and now Mathias would wake up to make fun of it. On top of that, he was still laying in the same bed as him. The fate that would most certainly bring about his utter demise was sealed as Norway let out a sigh of resignation. It was too late to do anything his unfortunate situation now.

Mathias let out another grunt before lifting a limp arm to rub his still red-rimmed eyes. He sat up and surveyed the room before landing on Norway. The Dane blinked sluggishly and yawned before arranging his sleepy features into a scowl. Mathias half-heartedly glared at the smaller man before asking in the most aggressive manner he could manage while half asleep,

"Why are you in my bed?!"

"Well, you had a nightmare so…"

"Oh, right."

An awkward silence settled between the two like thick syrup. Both people were blushing heavily, each was severely embarrassed by the cumbersome ordeal that occurred last night. After a few tense minutes of discomposure, Mathias cleared his throat with a gruff cough.

"Thank you. Seriously, thanks for staying with me."

Norway allowed a smile to stretch across his face.

"It was no problem. I won't tell anyone, if that's what you want."

"Yeah that'd be good, thanks."

Glancing over at Mathias, Norway realized the Dane was still blushing profusely. Crying in front of your semi-enemy was not an ideal situation to anybody. Showing weakness could easily backfire and be used as blackmail. Fortunately, Norway had sworn he would never stoop to that level to achieve any means. He called out, forcing the Dane to look him in the eye.

"Hey."

Mathias grunted but retained his defensive barrier of silence.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly."

"You can trust me, I promise. I always found it easier to cope with when I talked to a good friend about my nightmares."

Norway refrained from mentioning that the good friend he would usually talk to was Denmark.

"Since when were we friends?"

Silence reigned over their heads in a looming cloud, yet the Norwegian refused to let it deter him.

"Since I woke and comforted you all night."

Mathias bristled, and Norway attempted to quickly backtrack onto safer ground.

"Not that it was a burden of course. I am honestly surprised that you didn't throw me out of your room when you woke up."

"Yeah well I feel like I should trust you, even if I don't know why."

Norway nodded jerkily, glad Mathias hadn't forgotten their whole relationship. He was flattered at the Dane's comment, even if it was half insult.

"It's okay if you don't want to."

"No, I might as well explain what I was dreaming about. Oddly enough, what you said made a smidgeon of sense."

Norway snorted and pivoted his body to face Mathias's hunched one. The Norwegian leaned back on a mountain of pillows, if he was going to stay seated he would make himself comfortable and at home. Mathias furrowed his brow and rubbed his thumb and forefinger along the bridge of his nose. With a shaky sigh, he began to hesitantly explain.

"I was dreaming that I was in a house. At first everything seemed ordinary, but then it the temperature started heating up and I could smell smoke. I don't know what or why, but I was trying to get upstairs to fetch something. I remember starting to sweat, everything was so realistic. I was having trouble breathing, and I could hardly see. I ran into a room that the fire hadn't touched yet. I grabbed a silver thing off of a nightstand— I don't know what it was."

The Dane drew a sharp breath and shuddered. The traumatic nightmare had clearly affected him more than a dream should. With a wide-eyed gasp, Norway came to the shocking conclusion that what Mathias was describing wasn't a dream, it was a memory.

"I ran back into the hallway except this time, there was no escape. The flames had covered the only exits. I tried to get to the stairs but before I could reach the railing a heavy beam fell and pushed me to the floor. It was still burning when it crushed my ribs. I remember screaming in pain, trying to call for help. As you could probably tell, no one came."

Guilt from that fateful day flooded Norway's senses in an overpowering tidal wave. All he could do was numbly listen to the rest of Mathias's description of his own personal hell.

"The last thing I remember before darkness was something colliding with my head. The agony felt so real, like I had experienced it before or something. You'd think that when I fell unconscious I would wake up, but instead the nightmare continued. Everything was blindingly painful and I felt like I was being drained of something important. Right after, you woke me up."

Norway nodded slowly and arranged his features in sympathetic expression. If there was one thing the Norwegian knew, it was that Denmark loathed pity. He confessed to Norway once that he despised feeling weak and indisposed. There was no way Norway would risk riling the Dane up and throwing away whatever trust he had placed in him with one pitiful glance. He nodded understandingly and placed a comforting hand on Mathias's shoulder. To his immense surprise, instead of pulling away, Mathias leaned in to the gesture. He cupped his own face in both hands and peered at Norway through laced fingers.

"That's not all."

Norway stared at him curiously. After a seconds pause he jerked his head, signaling for the taller man to continue.

"You were in my dream."

"…"

"I saw your face. You looked happy and were leading me up a hill. Right before we reached the peak you shook me awake."

Norway could remember that day like it was yesterday. It was a cherished memory of his, one that occurred during the viking era. Whenever he was upset, Norway would look back on that moment to comfort his mind.

(flashback)

 _For once in his short life, Norway felt ridiculously happy. The sky was a bright, gorgeous blue, like a certain someone's eyes. He breathed in the fresh, crisp air in lengthy drawn-out gulps. A sudden call made him spin around. Perfect, just the person he was looking for._

 _"Hiya Norge!"_

 _"Hello Denmark."_

 _Denmark leapt through the springy grass with boundless energy. One hand grasped a shining axe, which he haphazardly swung around. The Dane came to a halt once he had reached Norway's side._

 _"What'cha doing?"_

 _"I was exploring the cliffs. Would you like to see?"_

 _"Sure!"_

 _Side by side they strolled, shoulders occasionally brushing as they stumbled along. They walked in compatible silence, silence two could only obtain by years of trusted friendship. Nearing the destination of their walk, Norway pulled ahead of the blue-eyed nation. He was eager to show-off his new place._

 _Denmark caught up with Norway in a matter of seconds, his longer legs held a huge advantage over Norway's shorter ones. He opened his mouth to make a stupid, yet endearing remark. Instead, he gaped with an awed expression._

 _"Oh, wow!"_

 _They stood on a clifftop overlooking the sea. Minuscule longboats could be seen as tiny pinpricks in the distance. The sea breeze ruffled their hair and blew at their backs, pushing them further towards the edge.. The gulls called in lonesome tones, circling above in a lackadaisical manner. Norway grinned at the Dane's reaction._

 _"Norway, this is beautiful."_

 _Denmark turned to the Norwegian with a serious gaze. He looked genuinely grateful and sincere as he gazed into Norway's eyes._

 _"Thank you for showing me this."_

 _Norway gazed back, admiring the way Denmark's eyes sparkled in the sun. He smiled at the cheerful Dane and let out a content sigh._

 _"Norge, you know something?"_

 _"What?"_

 _"You're my best friend. Don't ever forget it."_

(end flashback)

He felt tears prick his eyes as he recalled blushing heavily and murmuring the same right back at Denmark.

"Lukas, are you alright?"

Norway jolted out of his reverie at the tone of the Dane's voice. He looked up to see Mathias glancing worriedly at him. He wiped a sleeve across his eyes.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Are you?"

Mathias sighed and rubbed his neck with a sheepish look. With a start, Norway realized he was blushing.

"Yeah, I feel better now that I told you about it. I guess you were right. Thanks for listening to me."

"Sure, you're welcome. Stop being embarrassed."

Mathias chuckled at Norway's statement. He seemed more at ease when Norway was in his vicinity than before the nightmare had occurred. The Norwegian realized that this bonding moment could be just the thing to bring them closer together.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up. If you don't mind I'd like to shower now."

"Right."

As Norway walked out of the room he couldn't help but wonder if their lull in fighting with each other would start up again. But then again, maybe their relationship could be salvaged after all.

—


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

The hour following Mathias's shower was spent in compatible silence seated in the living room. The Dane was content with watching the flickering flames in the fireplace as they shivered and nearly winked out. Norway balanced his attention between watching Mathias and reading his book. He was particularly bored, and not just reading could cure it. He hummed quietly as he brainstormed possible ideas for an activity. While he was thinking, Norway's eyes drifted to stare absent-mindedly at Mathias.

The Dane seemed fascinated by the fire, his eyes were wide with interest and curiosity. Every once in a while he would reach out as if to stroke the flame, only to pull back at the last minute before being burned. The dancing flames were reflected in his eyes, making the blue look all the brighter.

"Do you want to do anything today?"

Mathias turned his gaze from the fire to Norway. He stared for a bit, lost in thought and deeply concentrating.

"I want to get out of the house. I'm gonna go crazy if I have to be cooped up any longer."

Norway responded with a slight chuckle as he nodded in agreement to the Dane's words. He stood up from his place on the couch and stretched, making his joints pop satisfyingly. He gestured for Mathias to follow as he made his way through the furniture and towards the garage where the car was stowed. Mathias trailed after him, hesitating slightly.

"Where are we going?"

"Into town."

Mathias was far from satisfied with that answer, but rather than ask again he chose to stay silent and roll with it. He kept his face neutral to hide the curiosity he felt inside.

The pair clambered into the vehicle, Norway behind the wheel and Mathias in the passenger seat. Unlike their last car ride together, the silence was comfortable and welcome. Mathias stared out the window as trees turned into green blurs when they zoomed past. Norway kept his gaze fixed on the road except for the occasional glance towards the man next to him. He could tell Mathias was itching to ask were they were going. The Norwegian suppressed a smirk at the Dane's obvious curiosity. Too bad, he would have to wait.

They drove into Dragør and Norway parked the car in a back alley by a small pub. He looked over at Mathias who looked back with a small smirk. Norway was pleased to know that he had chosen their destination well.

What the pub lacked in size it made up for in merriment. It was a brightly-lit bustling place, packed full of drunk and buoyant people. Norway wove through the throng and made his way to the bartender. He flicked his hand at Mathias, gesturing for him to hang back. To his disgruntled annoyance, Mathias waved him off and stalked over to the nearest pair of strangers. He jauntily started to converse with them, and in the span of five minutes Norway watched as the strangers went to being Mathias's new best friends.

The Norwegian snatched the beer he had ordered and could not stop a pang of jealously from worming its way into his stomach as he stepped over two the chatting threesome. Mathias caught sight of him making his way over and patted his new friend's shoulders to gain their attention.

"Hey guys, this is my friend Lukas. Lukas, this is Alexey and Christian."

Mathias gestured to each person in turn. Alexey was a rather tall, raucous man. He had brown hair and bright blue eyes that did well to match his personality. Christian was more like Lukas himself, he was quiet and on the shorter side. He sported brown eyes and medium-length brown hair that cut short just above his ears.

Norway bid them hello and passed a beer to Mathias, who graciously excepted it and pried the cap off with his teeth. Norway rolled his eyes as the Dane took a hearty gulp before continuing to speak to Alexey and Christian. For the most part the Norwegian quietly sat and observed the conversation. He would speak when spoken too, and after the first couple one-worded answers, the three left him alone.

As the day wore on, Norway found himself getting gradually more tipsy. His sight was getting fuzzy and he could hardly remember how he had arrived in this situation. The Norwegian didn't trust himself to walk so he seated himself on one of the many barstools and waited for the dizziness to pass. He waited in drunken silence but to no avail, the fog clouding Norway's brain refused to leave. He groaned and let his head drop to the bar counter with a painful thud.

"Hey Lukas!"

Norway looked up at the sudden shout and spotted a teetering Dane stumbling towards him. It appeared that Mathias was immensely intoxicated as he clumsily took a seat to the side of Norway. The Dane smelled heavily of alcohol, and was grinning insanely at the groaning Norwegian.

"Heeeey Lukas! What are you— doing you are?"

Norway glanced at him perplexedly.

"What?"

"What doing you are— I mean, what are you doing?"

The Norwegian snorted at Mathias's drunken talk. Where was a video recorder when you needed one?

"Nothing. Where are Alexey and Christian?"

"Meh, I dunno."

"So it's just us?"

"Yes. Yes! We indeed are… yes!"

Norway's addled brain signaled him now was the time to bring his feelings to light. After all, any idea made sense when drunk.

"Mathias."

"Yeah?"

"I lov—"

Norway was interrupted as a voice cheerfully called out to the taller man.

"Hey Mathias!"

The Dane whipped around and grinned widely at the approaching figure of Christian. Norway's already flushed face turned crimson as Mathias skipped off to join his friends. What the hell was he thinking?! Thank god Mathias was too drunk to comprehend what he had been about to say. The Norwegian heaved a sigh of relief and polished off his ninth beer of the night.

Norway regarded the crowd silently with a blank gaze as he nursed a cup of coffee. Couples were chatting on the far side of the room, people drinking heavily by the bar, and by the dance floor he saw a tall blond spinning around— Oh my god.

Mathias, goofy and awkward Mathias, was surrounded by a circle of people on the dance floor. Norway gaped as the Dane's feet blurred as he performed complicated tricks in time with the music. Mathias was break dancing, and was absolutely incredible at it. The Norwegian wandered over to join the multitude of people watching the spectacle with awed expressions and drunken smiles.

Mathias's insane grin was now accompanied by eyes that glittered with excitement and adrenaline. Sweat dripped from his brow but the Dane didn't stop, he only danced faster. His body was moving in mesmerizing ways and he twisted and twirled to the delight of the horde around him. As the final beat of the song played, Mathias struck a pose and to his immense enjoyment, the crowd screamed and cheered approval. Norway clapped along and gave a minuscule smile when the Dane caught his eye.

Now clapping half-heartedly, the Norwegian picked his way through the crowd and grabbed ahold of the Dane's arm, dragging him towards the door. Mathias struggled feebly but was overall to drunk to do much good.

"Luuuukas! I having was— was having fun!"

He whined. Norway rolled his eyes and shoved the man into the passengers seat. The moon had risen long ago and Norway was eager to get home and sleep. He ignored the Dane's complaints and drove back to the house at a speed much to high to be legal. The Norwegian finally pulled into the garage, slamming the car door shut, too tired to lock it. He also failed to notice that his companion hadn't exited the car with him.

Norway trudged up the stairs and threw open the door to his room with a loud bang. He flopped onto the plush mattress, too exhausted to remove his clothing. Within minutes he was asleep, oblivious to the Dane who had passed out and been trapped in the car.

—

 **Terrible ending, I know. Please review and tell me what you think! If you have any ideas, tell me! Reviews are what keep me writing, so please keep them coming. Also if you want to, check out a one-shot I wrote called 'Dark Skies From Here On Out.' I worked pretty hard on it, though it is kind of short.**

 **BLOOPERS:**

"Do you want to do anything today?"

Mathias turned his gaze from the fire to Norway. He stared for a bit, lost in thought and deeply concentrating. A feral glint entered his eyes as he spoke,

"You."

The room was deadly silent for five minutes and counting. Norway and Mathias stared at each other. Gradually Norway's surprise turned into need and he jumped towards the Dane.

"I thought you'd never ask."


	10. Chapter 10

**I never ever imagined that I would get this much support. Thank you so much to all of my amazing reviewers. You guys are my inspiration and there is no way in hell I would still be writing without you guys.**

 **This chapter is only around 1,300 words because one, I wanted to post something to keep you entertained, and two, the next chapter is going to be very long. I wanted to give you something to read while you wait for it to come out.**

Chapter Ten

"LUKAS GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!"

Norway jolted awake at the cacophonous voice of a fuming dane. He blinked and sat up, attempting to clear the haze of sleep from his brain. After a failed attempt, the Norwegian was content with dozing off, but another furious screech sent him surging out from underneath his bed covers and bolting towards the stairs.

"LUKAS!"

Mathias's howl resounded off the walls in a deafening echo. Norway increased his speed tenfold and burst into the kitchen. The piqued scream was louder and more apparent from downstairs. Mathias's shrieking was emanating from the garage, and with a panicked yelp Norway hauled the leaden door open, but not before snatching the keys from where they'd been carelessly tossed the night before.

If looks could kill Norway would be a dead two times over. The fierce glower Mathias was directing at him could make even the most fearsome predator whimper and crawl into a hole. It was both icy and burning at the same time, absolutely impossible to match or meet. Norway froze like a deer in headlights, stock-still and terrified.

"Get. Me. Out. NOW."

At Mathias's threatening tone, Norway hesitantly inched forward on unsure feet. He unlocked the car with a dreadful click that echoed through the barren garage like the chime of a funeral bell. The passenger door slowly creaked open with an ominous squeak. A pair of boot clad legs swung out and landed on the concrete, followed by the rest of the menacing form. Mathias stepped towards Norway with measured, purposeful footfalls, his shadowed gaze not once looking away from Norway's fearful eyes. Only when he was inches away and looming over the Norwegian did he speak.

"I'm giving you five seconds to run. Then I will hunt you down and painfully slaughter you."

Mathias growled with demented grin. His eyes were filled with ill intent and a psychotic lust for blood. Oblivious to the approaching threat, Norway tilted his head in obvious puzzlement and pondered the previously spoken words. Five seconds to run? Wha—?

"ONE!"

 _Oh. I see._

"TWO!"

The Norwegian stared at Mathias in petrified disbelief. He looked at the Dane as if in a hypnotic trance. Norway's body refused to budge and his feet had been frozen in unmovable blocks of concrete. Time stopped, and he dared not breath for fear of starting it again.

"THREE!"

It's amazing what one can accomplish when scared for their life. All of a sudden, the world flew from a standstill to a full blown frenzied panic. Norway jumped out of his paralytic state and sprinted towards the exit, numbers ringing loud in his ears.

"FOUR!"

Norway's lungs went into overdrive as they strained to take in more air to fuel his heaving body. He had reached the stairs by now, and was in the process of lunging up them two at a time. It was at times like these that Norway sincerely wished he were taller and had longer legs.

"FIVE!"

A deranged cackle followed the dreaded, final number. The distant thud of foreboding footfalls could be heard approaching the stairs. The stomping grew heavier as Mathias plodded up the stairs, mind intent on one thing. Norway flung his bedroom shut, and scrambled towards his nightstand. Maybe if the Norwegian told Finland that Mathias had gone insane, then the three could arrive in time to prevent the Dane from murdering him. He desperately combed through his drawers, clawing madly through the mess for a working phone, but his search efforts were to no avail. Norway had foolishly left his mobile on the coffee table downstairs. Maybe he could sneak out unnoticed and grab it—

 _Too late._

The door slammed open with a force that dented the wall it struck. Norway flinched away from the oncoming man, curling into a protective ball by his place near the nightstand. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and waited for the final blow to come. Norway had made peace with his doomed fate the minute he had laid eyes on Mathias's vengeful stare. Though he didn't want to die, the Norwegian had accepted the end was inevitable.

When the anticipated suffering never came, Norway reluctantly opened his eyes. His gaze slowly rose from staring at the Dane's shining boots to his face. To the Norwegian's immense concern, Mathias's body was shaking strongly and his lips were pressed together as if in pain. His eyes were bright, possibly with fever? Norway cautiously straightened his body and placed a hand on the Dane's quivering shoulder.

"Mathias? Are you okay?"

That was the last straw for Mathias. He collapsed on the ground, writhing in laughter. The Dane clutched at his stomach and pulled at his clothing as he twitched on the ground. Soon he was spouting tears, howling incoherent phrases such as, "You should have seen your face!", or "That was hilarious, you actually thought I was gonna hurt you!".

As Mathias snickered, Norway was left to stew in incandescent silence. He was beyond furious that Mathias had deceived him, but even more so that he had fallen for it.

 _I did kind of deserve that. After all, I did lock him in a car all night._

With a miffed expression, Norway waited for the pealing laughter to subside before launching into a harsh tirade.

"Why would you do that?! I thought you were going to murder me, I could have called the police! What the hell were you thinking anyways?! Are you completely insane?!"

"Probably."

"Mathias!"

At Norway's berating tone, the Dane rubbed his neck and glanced away, still wearing a wolfish smile. He feigned indifference, but his self-satisfied looked gradually faded when he noticed that the smaller man was near hysterics.

"Look Lukas, I didn't mean it like that. Honestly, it was just a joke. I was just pissed at you for locking me in a car all night and wanted to get back at you."

Now it was Norway's turn to chuckle. He dryly coughed, embarrassed he had forgotten something as big as a human being when exiting the car.

"Yeah… I guess we're even then."

Mathias nodded in agreement. His guilt-ridden expression quickly morphed into another wide grin.

"Seriously though, you should have seen your face."

With an indignant shout, Norway shoved the cackling Dane out the door and forced it closed behind him. Though his actions spoke of anger, the Norwegian's eyes were twinkling with mirth and a small part of his mind wondered if he really had looked that funny. Norway released a fulfilled sigh and traipsed towards the bathroom, picturing Mathias's bright, laughing face the whole way, determined to make the Dane laugh more often. After all, such a pleasant face shouldn't be hidden behind a such a fierce glare.

—

 **Norway was acting a little OOC but then again, Mathias was being terrifying. Think about it, if you were faced by Mathias's glare, would you act like it didn't effect you and remain emotionless? Maybe Norway would have done that if it had been Denmark who had glared because they have known each other for centuries. It was not Denmark, but Mathias who was glaring and Norway barely knows anything about him or his behavior.**

 **I forgot a disclaimer; I don't own the characters, yada yada yada.**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

The rising sun shone brightly through the glass pane and into the kitchen. Two men sat, bathed in light as they stared sullenly into their murky coffee cups. Norway picked at his nails while discretely glancing across the table. Despite the jovial atmosphere, Mathias stared glumly at his drink with a disgruntled scowl. There was no question about it, something was immensely irritating the Dane.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. What's wrong with _you_?"

Norway stared blankly into the Dane's flickering eyes. After a moment of silence Mathias heaved a resigned sigh.

"Fine. It's just, I'm bored."

"…"

Lukas stared dumbly at Mathias who sported a serious, annoyed face.

"Are you kidding?"

Mathias bristled at his statement, tensing his muscles and straightening in his chair.

"No, I'm serious Lukas! All we do is sit around this dumb house. I want to go do something for once!"

The Dane stared unwaveringly into Norway's eyes before gripping his mug and sipping his coffee, never once breaking eye contact. So Mathias wanted to get out of the house, huh? After a moments pause, Norway pushed back the chair and stood up, heading for the his bedroom. As the Norwegian disappeared up the stairs he called over his shoulder,

"Go pack a bag, we'll be gone for a few days. You wanted to do something? You can thank me later."

Mathias stared dubiously after the unpredictable man with wide and confused eyes. With a shrug he followed Norway upstairs and began to rifle through his closet for suitable outfits.

Norway was rummaging through his own drawers, picking and matching a variety of shirts and pants. In a matter of minutes, he had prepared a duffle bag full of clothing and bathroom essentials. With a satisfied nod, Norway tossed his bag on his bed with careless effort and was preparing to head back downstairs when he heard a thump followed by muttered cursing coming from Mathias's room. He rolled his eyes with a smirk and plodded towards the Dane's room, where he eased open the door, careful not to make a sound.

Even with Norway's vision hindered by the door, it was obvious to anyone that Mathias was pissed off. The Dane was spread eagle on the floor, travel bag situated over his face. Despite the cloth muffling his words, Mathias's loud cursing could be heard from rooms away. Clothes were strewn around the room in a disorganized manner and his axe was imbedded deeply in the far wall.

Norway was too slow to hide a snort of laughter at the ridiculous scene and in turn of his discovery, pushed open the door. Mathias sprung up from the floor, face red and body ridged.

"What do you want?!"

Norway gazed amusedly around at the room. Instead of answering Mathias's previous question, he raised an inquiring eyebrow that accompanied his twitching lips.

"What… what are you doing?"

Mathias scowled and averted his eyes from Norway inquisitive gaze. He blushed and mumbled an intelligible string of words, mostly consisting of curses. Still muttering, he stalked over to axe and pried it out of the wall with a grunt. The Dane's gaze switched between the crinkled duffle bag and the weapon he grasped in his clenched hand. He stared at the axe before growling and hurling it at the opposite wall. Norway flinched at the resounding thud as the axe was once again buried in the wall. He decided it was smartest to let Mathias reply in his own time.

Only once the room was utterly trashed did Mathias find the will to reply coherently to Norway's inquisitive gaze.

"I'm trying to get my axe in the bag."

Norway glanced from the bag to the five-foot long axe. His shoulders began to quiver with suppressed chuckling when he compared each objects size. Why would he even think he could get an object of that size in such a small bag?

"Shut up! I know the axe is too big!"

Mathias shouted.

"I didn't say anything!"

"With your eyes, moron! You were speaking with your eyes— Hey, Stop laughing!"

Norway was shaking in an effort too hide his laughter from the irate Dane. Mathias snarled and barely stopped himself from throwing the axe at Norway's hysterical face. A long time had passed before the Norwegian's snickering faded to a slight cough.

"You can't bring the axe."

Mathias's disbelieving gaze flew from the floor to Norway's eyes.

"But it's my axe!"

"So?"

"So I have to take it!"

"You can't."

"But I have too!"

Norway sighed and pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. He knew that Mathias was too stubborn to give in, the axe would have to come somehow. Norway could call in a few favors and then… yes, that might work.

"Fine."

"I have too— Wait, what?"

"You can take the axe."

Shocked with the sudden turn of events, Mathias's only response was a mute nod. Instead of trying to stuff it in the bag, he placed the weapon against the wall where it precariously leaned, on the verge of falling. He began loading clothes into the rumpled bag with a harried mood as Norway exited the room to get in touch with his contacts.

For days on end Norway had been waiting to get the chance to do something with Mathias. The perfect opportunity came up when the Dane had declared his boredom, and Norway had decided that a two day trip to Copenhagen was the perfect remedy. So what if Mathias insisted on bringing a double-bladed axe along for the trip? As long as he didn't kill anyone, Norway was fine with bringing the weapon.

An hour later, Norway had acquired permission from the hotel manager to bring a giant viking axe onto the premise. Now with nothing better to do, the Norwegian lay sprawled on the couch whilst picking lethargically at the fraying seem of the cushions. He had just managed to unravel half of the seem when Norway's sensitive ears picked up the sound of heavy footfalls belonging to a certain Dane tramping their way down the stairs. He heaved himself off the couch as Mathias plodded into the living room and dropped his bag with an audible thump, only to pick it up again when Norway gestured for him to follow as he disappeared into the next room. Mathias rolled his eyes yet trudged after the Norwegian with nothing more than a grunt.

Norway lead the taller man through the various rooms and into the garage. He fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the doors with a click. The Norwegian tossed both his and Mathias's bag into the backseat before clambering behind the wheel. He ignored the Dane's questioning stare and gazed stubbornly through the window. After a few short minutes Mathias gave up and leaned back in his seat, to the satisfaction of the annoyed driver.

—

Luckily for the bored occupants of the car, the drive to Copenhagen was a short distance. In no time at all the two were watching the valet service drive the vehicle into a vacant parking space. Norway had wisely asked one of the workers to take the axe up to their hotel room in order to avoid mass chaos and panic. Bags gripped tight, they strolled through the sliding doors of the Copenhagen Marriott Hotel. The lobby was decorated luxuriously with flowery arrangements every few feet. The bustling crowd complicated finding the check-in desk, turning a 30 second walk into a five minute maze. Mathias was the one to spot the desk over the heads of all the people, dragging the shorter man behind him as he walked up to it. The attendant looked up at the shadow of the man and smiled in a flirtatious way that irked Norway to no end. He cleared his throat, startling the attendant out of her dazed behavior.

"Bondevik."

The attendant stared at him confusedly before blushing and turning to the computer placed in front of her. Norway snorted maliciously at her lack of perception and ability to comprehend the smallest phrase. After a minute's silence, the flushed attendant pushed two room keys across the counter.

"Room 1523, on the 5th floor. Enjoy your stay sir!"

Once again she glanced over at the Dane who had been surveying the whole confrontation with a blank look. The attendant batted her lashes teasingly as he looked over at her. Norway promptly shoved him towards the elevator, casting a dark glare over his shoulder. He shoved the taller man inside and jammed his finger on the button that would send them too the 5th floor. He huffed angrily and glared at the floor until he caught Mathias's amused look in the reflection of the tile.

"What! She was annoying and clearly didn't know how to do her job."

Mathias tilted his head in a way that stressed the fact he could see right through the Norwegian's lies. He would have liked to say more, but decided to do the smart thing and drop the topic.

Norway lead the Dane through winding hallways until they came to a stop at room 1523. He shoved open the door and was greeted with a modern, yet cozy living space. The room was decorated with scenic pictures and colorful wallpaper. Two beds were pressed against the far wall, only inches apart. A television sat facing towards the beds in order to allow easy vision and relaxation. The bathroom door was to the left of the entrance, covered in pristine tile.

Mathias pushed past Norway and dropped his bag on the left mattress before grabbing his weapon tightly from where it leaned against the nightstand. He inspected the axe for any dents or scrapes, before deciding that its condition was satisfactory and turning his attention to Norway.

"So, why are we at a hotel? Are you trying to woo me?"

Norway hid his embarrassed mannerisms behind a thorn-like wall of sarcasm.

"Yeah, maybe if I halved my standards, and then lowered them again.. You said you wanted to get out of the house and I agreed. We will do a few things and then go home."

Mathias shrugged and offered no complaints. In fact, he looked rather pleased at Norway's choice of entertainment.

Norway set his bag on his own bed and began to unload everything into the drawers that were placed at the foot of the mattress. The Norwegian had packed fleetingly, only carrying several pairs of clothes, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a comb. It took him no time at all, leaving him with nothing to do but watch as Mathias unpacked his mountain of things. The Dane unloaded object after object, yet only a third of them were clothes. The Dane unpacked book after book, a Rubiks Cube, numerous pencils and pens, a pad of paper, and several small knives…?

"For protection."

Mathias spoke with a self-confident smirk. Norway rolled his eyes and barely refrained from reprimanding the assertive Dane. Instead, he leaned back onto the bed and began to flip through the television channels, yet to his dismay his choices consisted of infomercials and children's shows. The Norwegian gave up on the T.V. and sighed, propping himself up on his elbows in order to glare at Mathias's back.

"Hurry up."

The Dane whipped around with a frustrated expression.

"Jeez, I'm almost done! Chill out."

After what felt like hours, Mathias had finally emptied his oversized duffle bag. He tossed it to the side and sat down on his bed, turning towards Norway with a huff.

"Okay, oh wise trip planner. What are we going to do today?"

Norway had interpreted this question, and was fully prepared with a smug retaliation.

"We're going to Tivoli Gardens."

—

Tivoli Gardens was a beautiful amusement park filled with laughing families and cheerful faces. Luscious green trees decorated the stone pathways, and flowers filled the park with vivid color. Restaurants and concession stands lined the pathways, filling the air with the delicious smell of Danish food. Despite the food smell, the air was crisp and clear with the becomings of a bright, sunlit day.

The minute Mathias had gotten his hands on a map, he was off, dragging a reluctant Norway behind him. They dashed through the park, coat tails flapping as Mathias navigated through the crowd and to the entrance of The Demon.

The Demon was a hulking red rollercoaster, 91 feet tall and twice as intimidating. It loomed above the heads of the two men, making it seem all the more massive. The Dane rushed towards the line, Norway in tow. They waited for 15 minutes before climbing into the cars, one man eager and one opposed. Mathias was fidgeting in excitement, and only after several painful flicks from the Norwegian did he find the patience to stand still.

With a creak the car moved along the rails, steadily climbing the first gigantic drop. Norway began to sweat in anticipation as the car neared its peak. He vaguely noticed Mathias stretch his hands up in an adrenalized manner. The Dane laughed manically as the car began to tip forward. For a brief moment Norway was able to see the entirety of the park before the car plunged into sudden death.

After his rollercoaster experience, Norway could not look someone in the eye and honestly say he didn't scream in terror. He could however, admit that as soon as he had stumbled off the ride that he had yelled at Mathias for making him go on it. The obnoxious Dane had just laughed and dragged him off to another ride.

Over the course of two hours The Norwegian had been unwillingly dragged from ride to ride. He went on roller coasters, drop rides, but absolutely refused to ride anything G-force. Instead he happily watched from a bench as Mathias puked his innards out into a trashcan. After the barfing fiasco the two headed of to lunch at an over expensive fast food chain. Norway ate with quick bites while Mathias gobbled down his food, not un-like a certain American nation (Don't worry, America's eating habits are worse be far).

With stomachs full and all the high-speed attractions ridden, Norway and Mathias decided it was high time to head back to the hotel. They boarded a bus, laughing and shoving each other like two old friends. As the ride progressed, the two gradually began to fall into sleepy silence.

Once the bus had arrived, Norway nearly had to drag the comatose Dane off the bus. He helped the stumbling man navigate through the throng without falling and propped him against a wall in the elevator. The Norwegian then proceed to slap Mathias across the face in order to draw him into awareness, which with the animosity of the two, evolved into an extreme shouting match.

And thus, that was the image an unsuspecting family saw as they prepared to board the elevator. A short blond man angrily attempting to punch a taller scowling man who blocked every hit. Though to the family it might have looked like chaos, in truth, it was a pattern. A messy, violent, comfortable, and familiar pattern.

And as long as no one changed that, it was okay.

—

 **I know the ending sucked but I'm tired so there.**

 **It always throws me off close everything is in Europe. Without traffic it takes exactly 23 minutes to get from Dragør to Copenhagen while it takes me that exact amount of time to get to school! How. Just… how. Also, Tivoli Gardens, the rides, and the measurements are all real and accurate.**

 **And yes, the room number has a specific meaning. It isn't important to the story though. Maybe. Please review!**

 **BLOOPERS:**

"Room 1523, on the 5th floor. Enjoy your stay sir!"

Once again she glanced over at the Dane who had been surveying the whole confrontation with a blank look. The attendant batted her lashes teasingly as he looked over at her. Norway promptly shoved him towards the elevator, casting a dark glare over his shoulder. As he strode away, the attendant called out again,

"Wait, sir you forgot something!"

Norway spun around and marched back to the desk.

"What."

The lady held up a 'do not disturb' sign. She smiled as she held it out for Norway to take.

"You know, I doubt the cleaning ladies would appreciate walking in at the wrong time—"

Norway blushed furiously and his threats increased in volume and amount. He growled and stalked towards the elevator, all the while discreetly tucking the sign into his pocket. Who knows, if Norway got lucky, they might actually use it.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Norway heaved a breathy sigh as he lugged the tall Dane outside and into the blinding sunshine. Mathias hissed and shielded himself from the light like a vampire, rubbing his eyes and grumbling about lack of sleep and absence of a caffeinated drink. Used to such complaints, the Norwegian disregarded the man's whining and pulled the reluctant Dane along the sidewalk with an air of unwavering aloofness. Oblivious to Norway's growing irritation, Mathias continued to grumble about his woeful life and rude Norwegian friend.

Norway felt his eye twitch in annoyance. His ability not to snap and yell at the Dane in public was rapidly diminishing, if he didn't find relief soon who knows what would happen.

It was as if God himself was listening to his plea for help, a coffee shop stood proud in all its glory not fifty paces from the Norwegian's current position. He was snapped out of his thoughts by another pitiful complaint being uttered by the sulking Dane. Before his mind could short-circuit, Norway shoved enough money to pay for a drink into Mathias's unsuspecting hands and shoved him roughly towards the shop. The Dane scowled and rubbed the spot on his arm where Norway had pushed him and stomped off without a backwards glance. He strolled into the store, stopping just for a moment to flip off the smaller man through the glass. The Norwegian mumbled a faint "good riddance" and seated himself on a bench to wait.

Soon enough Mathias emerged from the shop toting a steaming cup of creamy liquid. The frown lines on his face had disappeared and he seemed to be in a much better mood now that his caffeine needs had been satisfied. The Dane ambled over to the bench and handed over a styrofoam cup that had been previously veiled from sight to Norway. He gratefully accepted the drink and sipped at it while he and Mathias strode along the street, eager to reach their destination.

After a what seemed like hours of hiking, Mathias spotted the vague outline of a statue, just visible over the horizon. To their immense relief, the crowds of tourists had thinned out and navigating through them had suddenly become effortless. A short span of time passed before Norway and Mathias had gotten close enough to clearly make out the details and fine lines of the imposing figure.

The world famous mermaid statue loomed above the pair, managing to appear intimidating and welcoming to visitors all at the same time. The tarnished model was situated so it was leaning on a cluster of rocks while it gazed out into the ocean with a forlorn expression, as if longing to leap in and swim away. It was portrayed as the epitome of despondency, yearning for freedom and release yet unable to attain or accomplish it.

For many minutes Norway and Mathias admired the mermaid with undisguised awe. They marveled at its melancholy complexity at both emotional and physical levels. Norway took out his phone and snapped a few memorable pictures while Mathias stepped backwards and loosened a low hum of appreciation. He glanced at the statue adoringly before turning to look at his shorter companion.

"Do you know how many times this statue has been defaced or destroyed?" Norway curiously turned his attention towards the Dane who had already begun to speak again. "Her head was knocked off three times, her arm came away once, she was covered in paint five times, and once she was knocked off of her pedestal by explosives in 2004. Yet against all odds she still is intact… I find that fascinating." Mathias stared at the figure with a prideful gleam in his eye. He sighed contentedly and returned to regarding it with a respect filled gaze.

Meanwhile, Norway's mind was still wrapping itself around what Mathias had just spoken. When he finally was able to comprehend what the Dane had just recited, the Norwegian barely restrained himself from keeling over in shock. He forced his breaths to even out and replaced his stunned expression with a forced, curious one. He walked over and cautiously placed his hand on Mathias's forearm.

"Mathias, how did you know that?" The Dane's brow furrowed in puzzlement. He gnawed on his lower lip as he attempted to recall how he had learned the facts. With a half-hearted shrug he gave up, simply surmising he must have had read a brochure.

"I must have picked up a pamphlet or something. Does it matter?" Norway shook his head no, unable to decide whether to view the situation optimistically or pessimistically. On the positive side, if Mathias was beginning to remember different things then his memories would be back in no time. If he thought about it negatively, that would mean Mathias would remember _all_ memories, including the ones Norway would rather stay hidden. The different perspectives swirled around inside the Norwegian's head in a mess of confusion and indecisiveness. His inability to organize his mind lead Norway to make the split-second decision of pushing everything into the corner, leaving it for later. He rejoined Mathias by the base of the mermaid, promising himself that he would sort the dilemma out as soon as they arrived back in their hotel room.

—

After their baffling trip to the statue, Norway decided to call the quits on sight-seeing and returned with Mathias to the hotel. As they walked through the lobby, Norway glanced discreetly around and was relieved to find that the desk attendant from the previous day was absent from her post. Nonetheless he ushered the Dane through the lobby, all the while eyeballing any makeup-clad female that dared approach. The pair reached their hotel room with no incident and little restraint. Mathias flopped onto Norway's bed and snatched the television remote from the bedside table. Instead of shoving the Dane onto the floor, Norway opted to nudge him to the edge so that there was enough room for them both to sit in comfort. The Norwegian eased back onto the mountain of pillows decorating his bed while watching the T.V. channels rapidly flip by in sync to the Dane's thumb pressing the button to change them. He had just begun to doze off when a sudden exclamation from Mathias startled him from his slumber.

"Lukas, look! The Little Mermaid!" Norway groggily opened his eyes to see the animated Disney version of The Little Mermaid. He blinked wearily at the grinning Dane as the man hummed along to the movie's soundtrack. Ariel was currently surrounded by objects from above sea, singing yearningly in desire to join the land-dwellers she fantasized about. Her performance and voice were mesmerizing, and Norway soon found he was unable to look away. He became so wrapped up in the movie that he didn't notice Mathias had leaned back on the bed until he was parallel with Norway's body. Only when he felt hot breath on the side of his neck to the Norwegian acknowledge the presence beside him. Using all of his self-restraint not to jump up or blush, the smaller man selected to whisper-yell at the offending man.

"What are you doing?!" Mathias blinked nonplussed at Norway's flustered face.

"I'm resting."

"On my bed?!"

"Yeah, so?"

"You have your own bed."

"Your's has a better view of the T.V."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No."

"Ye— Mathias!"

"Lukas!"

Deciding bickering was getting him nowhere, Norway elected to drop the conversation, but not before solidly whacking the spiky-haired man on the chest with a thump. Mathias grunted but thankfully decided not to retaliate with a hit of his own.

A comfortable silence settled over the room like a thick blanket. The pleasant temperature of the room and the radiated heat from the man next to him began to slowly lull Norway into a peaceful and secure rest. The drone of the television faded into background noise as the Norwegian's head drooped forward and his lids gradually pressed shut. Finally, darkness came in a benign wave of warmth as Norway slipped from reality into the wonders of dreamscape, unaware of the careful and subtle movement around him.

Mathias glanced downward as he felt a sudden pressure upon his shoulder. To his surprise Lukas had fallen asleep mid-movie and was heavily leaning on Mathias for support. The Dane was aware of the hostile shields he had purposely built in order to protect himself from these situations, but he found his mind was unwilling to wake the Norwegian and push him off of his chest. Mathias was content with watching the rest of the movie, but something about Lukas kept his eyes lingering on his face. Mathias allowed his gaze to trace the shorter man's features, from his perfectly shaped eyebrows to his delicately curved nose. The Dane's eyes roamed a bit more before he jerked, not enough to wake the slumbering man but enough to snap himself out of his trance-like state.

With a soft smile Mathias ruffled Lukas's hair before turning his attention back to The Little Mermaid. Eventually he fell prey to the same soporific aspects the smaller man had, and began to drift into a comforting doze with the aid of the environment around him. Not completely lucid and aware of his actions, Mathias's last conscious movement was to place his hand on the Norwegian's shoulder in a protective and possessive gesture. A small portion of his mind had been nagging at him from day one to protect this man at all costs. What the hell, maybe it was time to stop ignoring it.

—

 **Hope you like the chapter, please review constructive criticism or just something nice. I only got 3 reviews last chapter which was kind of disappointing. Thank you to everyone who does review, I really appreciate the support and encouragement to keep writing.**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Norway's head met the mattress as the object he was leaning on suddenly gave way to air. He jerked upward, already preparing a barrage of insults ready to hurl at the offending object (whether it be animate or not), only to realize there wasn't a figure in sight. The Norwegian peered cluelessly around the hotel room with obvious confusion. It wasn't until he heard a groan stemming from a spot on the floor that he realized where his headrest had went. Norway smirked as he scooted to the edge of the bed, already guessing what had happened.

Norway barely managed to prevent the painful collision of Mathias's head to his nose when the man pushed himself from the floor. Both men were streaming curses as they assessed their rather ridiculous situation. As Their obscene words petered out, Mathias's awkward and embarrassed gaze met Norway's in a silent gesture of gratitude for not laughing at his plight. The Norwegian nodded in recognition and slowly inched off the bed into a standing position. At the sight of the Dane's inquiring scrutiny, he swept his hand across the room to indicate the vacant and crumpled suitcases that lay strewn across the floor.

"We're leaving today, start packing." Mathias groaned at the dreaded words and flopped back onto the floor. He grumbled indiscernible refusals into the short bristles of the carpet while Norway moved sluggishly around the hotel room, collecting random articles and tossing them into the bag. When the Norwegian realized that the Dane hadn't budged from his sprawled position on the floor, he sighed and trudged over to deliver a sharp kick to the man's calf. Mathias yelped and sprung up, rubbing his leg and growling while Norway smirked and pointed towards the suitcases. Mathias scowled but nonetheless shuffled towards the dresser that sheltered all of his clothes.

After 30 minutes of drawn-out packing, Norway had managed to shove everything in his suitcase and after much argument, had gotten Mathias to do the same. They lugged their bags through the lobby and to the valet man who retrieved Norway's car with a tired sigh. The Norwegian had just started the car when Mathias jolted upward and leapt out the passenger door, yelling profanities at the top of his lungs. Norway jumped out of the car and barely halted the shaken valet from calling the police at the Dane's antics. He spent the next few minutes explaining that Mathias had an unstable mind and was under medical watch, hence the startling behavior. All of his hard work consoling the poor men went to waste when the Dane sprinted out of the building with a giant viking axe waving haphazardly behind him. Norway grimaced at the valet and quickly stepped into the car, not even attempting to create a story to cover up the axe.

The trip back to the house was easily what one could consider abnormal. For the majority of the ride Mathias napped peacefully, trying to make up for lost sleeping hours while Norway tried his hardest to concentrate on the road and not on the snoozing Dane next to him. When Mathias woke up, the two played an hazardous game of I-Spy that involved nearly driving into trees, other cars, and many curses being hurled at them by other drivers. To be fair, Norway did his fair share of flipping off other people as well.

The two were thoroughly exhausted by the time the car pulled up the lengthy driveway and into the spacious garage. Mathias stumbled out and grabbed their bags and axe while Norway focused on unlocking the door. They plodded into the house with heavy steps, not even bothering to bid each other goodnight before disappearing into their own respective rooms.

Leaving his bag in the hands of Mathias, Norway shut his door and collapsed onto his plush mattress. He groaned and inched his way under the sheets, somehow managing to do so without sitting up. The minute his head hit the pillow the Norwegian was fast asleep, mind already far, far away.

Mathias however, was not so lucky. His nap in the car left him tossing and turning, unable to find sleep no matter which way he positioned his body. With a huffy sigh, the Dane gave up on the prospect of rest and exited his room with the intent to use up his unwanted energy exploring the house. He wandered the area, opening and closing the doors that lined the halls. Several of the rooms were normal-looking, others left Mathias scratching his head in bewildered confusion. The rooms decorated with Swedish, Icelandic, and Finish objects and flags were three such spaces.

At the end of the hallway, Mathias came across a worn down, insignificant door that he had never noticed before. He hesitantly opened the door, which gave way to a rather small coat closet. Immediately Mathias noticed that his trench coat was one of the articles hanging in the confined space. ' _Lukas must have put it there.'_ he mused. The Dane shut the door and was about to continue on his way when he had a sudden thought. He snatched the coat off of the hanger and ventured back to his room where he slipped the coat on.

The minute the black fabric touched his skin Mathias was enveloped in a comfortable cocoon of bliss. He fell back onto his bed with a sleepy smile and shoved his hands into the dark pockets. The Dane wiggled his fingers, shut his eyes, and was on his way to sleep when he felt his thumb brush something cold.

Mathias sat up and grabbed the metal object between his fingers curiously. He drew his hand out of the pocket and stared blankly at the cross that rested in his palm. _'How did I never notice this?'_ he wondered. The Dane flipped the cross over, examining it on all sides for a possible engraving of ownership. He found no clue about who the cross belonged too, and settled for staring at it analytically. The small clip yielded no secrets, and with tired eyes Mathias placed it on the nightstand. The Dane laid down, shut his eyes and fell asleep, all the while dreaming of grassy meadows, viking ships, and a shining metal cross.

* * *

Norway lay sprawled on the couch, cup of coffee in one hand and book in the other. He had been awake for a few hours now and the sun was already high in the sky. The Norwegian didn't have the heart to wake the tall Dane, so instead he opted to recline in the living room until the man decided to venture down.

After three extra cups of coffee, Norway caught the sound of footfalls approaching from the staircase. Mathias plodded into the room and yawned, mussing his hair tiredly. The Dane was wearing sweatpants, a shirt, and oddly enough his trench coat. Norway nodded a greeting and turned back to his book.

"Lukas, do ya know what this is?" Norway glanced up, already preparing a sarcastic remark about the obliviousness of Danish people until he glimpsed the object that lay in Mathias's hand. The Norwegian's world promptly skidded to a halt as his vision tunneled, zeroing in on the metal cross that Mathias held. His muscles went lax and coffee cup fell, fragmenting into hundreds of sharp ceramic pieces. White noise filled his ears, drowning out the worried inquiries being directed his way.

"Where did you find that.", Norway whispered. Mathias frowned, he hadn't suspected such a negative reaction to a hair clip. He tossed the cross at the smaller man where it landed with a thump on his lap. The Norwegian made no move to pick it up, selecting instead to stare at it with a blank expression.

"It was in one of the pockets of my coat. I don't know how I didn't notice it." Mathias laughed nervously, internally praying that Lukas would use the opportunity to insult his perceptive skills. Unfortunately, the man on the couch seemed to be in another world.

Norway hesitantly inched his hand closer to the clip until his index finger brushed the cool metal of the clip. He cupped it in his hands and brought it to eye level, where he studied it with a wide range of emotions, varying from pain to anger.

This cross was the reason Denmark had run back into the burning house. This cross was the reason Denmark had been injured and lucky to be alive. It was because of the clip that the Denmark he knew and loved was gone.

A lone tear dripped off the Norwegian's cheek as he studied the cross intently. The wetness of the salty drop brought him back to awareness, and he turned his gaze from the object to the confused Dane.

"I need some time alone." Mathias's brow furrowed at the statement and he started forward.

"I don't think that's a—" He was cut off by the quiet, pleading words that were whispered by the man in front of him.

"Please." The Dane nodded slowly, promising himself that he would check on the emotionally unstable man soon. He reluctantly disappeared up the stairs, leaving the Norwegian alone on the couch.

* * *

The moment Mathias heard the unmistakeable sound of crackling did he know something was wrong. He dashed down the stairs and rushed into the living room, mentally cursing himself for leaving the Norwegian alone.

Lukas stood sullenly in front of the fireplace, staring into it's wavering flames. The blankets lay in an abandoned pile on the floor, spilt coffee unattended as well. The Dane cautiously approached the man, studying his face for any sign of emotion. He traced the Norwegian's gaze to the fire, not to the fire itself but to a glinting object that was propped against a piece of wood.

Mathias's eyes widened as he realized that the cross he had found had been placed in the fire, and was now well on its way to becoming a molten pool of metal. The Dane ran a hand through his already messy hair and hissed through clenched teeth.

"Lukas, what the hell?!" The Norwegian startled and blinked, as if coming out of a trance. He turned sluggishly towards Mathias and stared at him with a pained expression.

"I was just doing what should have been done a long time ago."

He turned back to the blaze, refusing to elaborate on his cryptic answer. Mathias stared at him for a few lengthy minutes before turning to stare at the fire as well.

The two of them stood soaking up the warmth, staring as the clip gradually melted down until it had settled at the bottom of the ash tray. Even after the cross had liquefied and Mathias had walked off, Norway stayed and gazed at the dying embers.

He didn't move from that position for hours, instead opting to reminisce on when his life hadn't felt so empty and filled with pain. He remembered when Denmark was cheerful and happy, back before the dreaded house fire. Norway surfed through the bitter-sweet memories, and for a single second he felt peace. He knew the feeling wouldn't last, but as far as the Norwegian was concerned, a second of tranquility was enough to keep him going. Even if the rest of his life was filled with devastation, Norway would live on and treasure that second, as long as it contained the one he loved. As long as it contained Denmark's smiling face, he would continue to fight until the end.

* * *

 **That ending was complete BS wasn't it. It was pretty bad, sorry. PLEASE review constructive** **criticism, or ideas for what's to come.**


	14. Chapter 14

**THIS FIC ISN'T OVER! Almost everyone thought it was over! I'm so sorry for being so vague, that AN was misleading, huh?**

Chapter Fourteen

Mathias twisted uncomfortably in his silken sheets, weaving his fingers tightly into the fabric. The moon shone brightly on the thin sheen of sweat that coated his brow as he writhed on his bed. Whimpers and distressed moans emitted from his pursed lips as he struggled to deal with the turmoil in his mind.

Faces flashed across the Dane's mind, each one scowling and mocking his flaws. Some he recognized such as the stoic man with glasses, and others like the stern and muscled blond, he didn't. Screaming filled his ears as visions of war and death raced around like haunting spirits. Memories spun around his head until they were all mixed together in a confusing blur of pain and suffering. Mathias whined and promptly forced himself to open his eyes, unprepared for the desolate surroundings he gazed upon.

* * *

 _Denmark opened his eyes to stare at the leafy treetops that loomed above him. Rain dripped into his eyes and soaked through his clothing, leaving the man all the more miserable. The Dane grunted and stood up, brushing twigs and mud of his back before coming face to face with the man he hated most. Sweden was glaring menacingly over the rim of his glasses while Finland huddled behind his back, peering out with scared eyes._

 _"_ _We're l'ving Denm'rk, you c'n't st'p us." Denmark leered and stepped towards the shivering duo. The psychotic glint in his eye and fixed smile set Sweden on end and he pressed his wife further towards the trees and away from the threatening Dane._

 _"_ _Maybe. Maybe I can't stop you," Denmark's wide grin stretched to an unrealistic length. "But I can sure as hell try." The Dane's grin dropped, and with a fierce snarl he lunged for the Swedish man._

* * *

 _Denmark gazed down upon the disapproving man, blinking away tears and suppressing the urge to reach out and grab the Norwegian in front of him. "Y-You're leaving t-too?" Norway merely nodded and grabbed his meager belongings. He bent down and scooped up a baby Iceland before turning to the doorway and striding towards it with long and purposeful steps._

 _"_ _Sweden was right, Denmark. You've gotten power hungry. You're too abusive and controlling. No wonder they left, we all hate it here." The Norwegian's words pierced Denmark through his already broken heart. They hated him? He swallowed back a sob and shut his eyes tightly, forcing himself to listen to the receding footsteps of his best friend and secret crush._

 _As soon as they were out of ear shot, the Dane collapsed onto his knees and began to sob in earnest. He howled his grief to the world, yet no one was there to console him. Either that, or no one liked him enough be near him. He wept and curled his body further into his trench coat, relishing the warmth and coziness of the soft material. He cried until his tear ducts were dry and his throat rubbed raw._

 _The Dane let out a scratchy laugh that reverberated throughout the empty house. So what if those five hated him? He had other friends like…._

 _No one. He had no one. For the first time since he had been born, Denmark was truly alone._

* * *

 _The year was 1943. Denmark wiped grime off his face as he surveyed his surroundings with a proud gaze. He was standing in the once pristine streets of Copenhagen, now full of dying fires and littered with dead bodies. It wasn't the wreckage of the city that had pleased him, it was the nazis that lay unmoving on the ground that made him feel twisted sense of satisfaction. The people of Denmark were finally revolting, living up to their country's image as a strong and dignified nation._

 _The ground quaked and as fast as Denmark's pride had appeared it was gone. The sound of guns filled the air as a squadron of German tanks made themselves known to the victorious Danish rebels. Denmark stood stoic while everyone else scattered, running in fear of their lives._

 _The leading tank halted in the middle of the paved street while the other five plowed on, picking out rebel hiding places and firing upon them. Denmark stared coldly at the blond who emerged from the tank and watched as he angrily barked orders to his men before storming over to the lone Dane. A fist cracked across Denmark's face and he fell to the ground, face void of emotion so as not to give the German satisfaction. Blinding agony shot through his cheek as he struggled to stand, only to be pushed down again by a steel-tipped boot. Germany dragged him upward by the collar and spit in his face._

 _"_ _Care to tell me what this is, Dane?" Denmark spat a glob of blood onto the German's shining boots, ruining their perfect polish. Unintimidated, he glared straight into the German's eyes, blue flashing against blue._

 _"_ _It's a riot, a successful one at that. Even a blind man could figure that one out genius." Germany's nose flared and he shoved the Dane back onto the concrete. He took a few calming breaths before shouting at two of his soldiers to grab the crumpled man on the ground. Each man seized one of Denmark's arms and dragged him backwards towards the tank. The Dane bared his teeth at the surveying German. The last this he heard before blacking out was the hateful words uttered by the man before him._

 _"_ _I thought you of all people would be smart, Danemark. This choice of yours will cost you and your people greatly. I think it's high time I start looking into the religious beliefs of your people."_

* * *

Norway huffed as he stomped up the stairs and down the hallway. For hours now he had been awake waiting for the Dane to make his way downstairs. The time was now 1:15 PM and the Norwegian was fed up with Mathias's laziness. He stormed to the Dane's door and angrily pounded on the wooden door. After eliciting no response from the other side, Norway slammed his fist against the door with his most fearsome glare as if hoping the sharpness of it would penetrate the thick barricade of wood. Once again met with silence, Norway readied his vocals to scream at the Dane while lifting his leg to bash the door down when all of a sudden it swung open, throwing the Norwegian off balance.

Mathias looked overall unkept. He had prominent bags under his eyes and his shoulders drooped the same way a war veterans would after returning from battle. Before Norway had a chance to question his looks, the Dane spoke two hurried, shaky, and jumbled words.

"I remembered."

Norway's eyes widened in shock and confusion at the sudden declaration. If Mathias remembered….

"Denmark?"

"Yes."

The Norwegian felt the corners of his mouth begin to twitch in the beginnings of a smile. On an impulse decision, he wrapped the taller man in a quick hug. His smile promptly fell when the Dane didn't return it. In fact, Denmark didn't seem happy at all. Norway furrowed his brow in concern and searched Denmark's face for any sign of joy. Instead of happiness, the Dane's features hardened into a cold stare and set jaw.

"Don't you want to know what I remembered, _Norway?"_ Denmark carried on, only pausing to draw breath. "I remember Sweden, Finland, Iceland, and you leaving me alone in 1523. I remember sobbing and calling out for help, yet know one came. Everything that I loved, gone in a week. Can you imagine that?!"

Denmark's icy expression morphed into a gaze full of sorrow and pain. His posture was slumped and gave him the defeated look of a man who had lost one to many battles. "I remember being mocked for surrendering to Germany during World War II. When my people finally revolted, no one came to help. I was thrown in a cell and tortured for everyone's crimes. As long as one Danish citizen was involved, Germany could take out all his frustration on me. Even after the war was over I was shamed for not doing _enough._ No one knows what I had to endure!"

His chest heaved as the Dane struggled to draw in a gasping breath to continue on. Norway stood paralyzed with mute horror as Denmark proceeded with his rant. "But most of all, I remember _you._ You caused me the most pain out of everyone." Denmark stepped forward until he was looming directly over the Norwegian. His eyes bore into Norway's grey ones, unrelenting and resentful.

"And for that Norway, I hate you."

Norway's vision was tunneling and he was having a hard time standing up straight. Despite his weakening vision and legs, he was able to make out Denmark's next words with astounding clarity.

"Stay away from me Lukas Bondevick. Stay away and never come close to me again."

Norway's legs finally collapsed and he could barely make out the sound of receding footsteps through the white noise that filled his ears.

Denmark was right. He was starting to hate himself too.

* * *

 **Guys, just to specify I will make it very clear when the end of the story is. If I don't say END OF STORY then I am talking about the end of the chapter.**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

The morning quietude of a spacious home in Malmo, Sweden was shattered by an obnoxious ringtone bursting forth from a small phone of the Finnish design. The effect was instantaneous, and the house erupted into a confusing disarray of shouting, banging, and animal sounds. Finland leapt out of his bed dashed through the house and towards the phone, ignoring the shouts deriving from a certain Icelander to turn off the sound and let him sleep. He shooed Hanatamago and out of the narrow hallway and ran into the kitchen, snatching his phone from the counter in one quick swipe. Despite the early hour in which he had called, the Fin smiled when he glimpsed Norway's caller ID flashing on the dimly lit screen. He placed the phone to his ear and greeted the Norwegian warmly. "Hey Norway! How's Mathias been?" Finland's smile prompted fell when he heard the man's shaky voice on the other line.

"M-Mathias remembered s-stuff." Finland's mouth twisted into a concerned frown.

"That's great Norway! What's so bad—"

"N-No you d-don't understand!" Norway's voice was steadily growing higher and more tremulous. "Denmark r-remembered all the b-bad stuff. T-The wars, the f-fights, t-the union. H-He hates us F-Finland. He h-hates m-me." The Norwegian broke off as sobs wracked his thin frame. The harsh choking sounds carried through the phone and echoed through the waking home. Finland's face paled and he gasped in horror and shock. A lone tear trailed along his cheek as he made plans for departure.

"Don't worry Norway. We're on our way." The Fin hung up the phone and composed himself, readying to go talk to the two nations besides himself present in the household. He had a long day of driving to prepare for, not to mention a lot of explaining to do on his part.

* * *

Norway's hands trembled as he placed the phone on the carpeted floor a few inches from where he sat. He hadn't had the strength to pick himself from the carpet to pursue the furious Dane and instead had opted to weakly dial Finland's phone number. Now that the call was over Norway allowed his resolve to collapse and he once again dissolved into a helpless pile of misery. _This is all my fault. If I had tried harder, made him listen to me, then maybe…_

Norway groaned and buried his head in his hands as he sank further into a pit of despair. Tears dripped through his fingers and stained his pants, leaving noticeable dark splotches wherever they landed.

The furious pounding of a fist on the door jolted the Norwegian out of his anguished state. He scrambled frantically towards the door, stopping briefly in front of a mirror to fix his bangs to cover his red and swollen eyes. Norway slammed open the door and barely dodged a fist as it swung towards the wood to continue its abuse. The fist's owner yelped in surprise and uttered a hasty apology before rushing into the living room. The Finnish man's two companions followed, one with a pitiful gaze and the taller one bearing a sympathetic expression. Norway shut the door with thin lips and a strained smile. He then followed the three into the room, unable to lift his eyes from the tear saturated carpet. "Norway… it's ok. We're here to help." The Norwegian blinked in the direction of his younger brother. Sweden nodded sharply in concurrence and placed a comforting hand on the shorter man's shoulder.

"We're g'nna spl't up 'nd find h'm. H' won't b' far." Finland bounced up behind the tall Swede and directed a comforting grin at Norway.

"Yeah! We'll tell him about all the good things he's done, so he doesn't just know about the bad." Norway hummed in agreement and turned to exit the room but was halted when Finland spoke again while sheepishly rubbing his neck. "But first, do you think you could fill us in, with more detail? Your phone call was kind of… obscure."

The Norwegian blushed and mumbled something about not thinking clearly. He exhaled heavily, heaving a pitiful sigh and mentally readied himself to recount the most despondent ten minutes of his life. "Denmark had been locked in his room the whole day so I went up to check on him. He came out after I had knocked on the door a few times and told me he remembered being a country. At first I was happy, but then—"

The Norwegian's voice wavered and he bowed his head so the other nations couldn't see the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. He drew in numerous rapid breaths to compose himself and carried on with his explantation. "—then he started talking about war, the union, and being betrayed and abandoned. H-He told me to stay away and n-never come near him a-again. Then h-he walked o-out." Norwegian blinked furiously to clear the water from his vision and regulated his breathing.

Iceland was the first the break the thickening silence. A determined glint entered his violet eyes as he spoke with calculated resolve. "Like Sweden said, he couldn't have gotten far." He glanced around to make sure he had caught everyone's attention before continuing on. "I'll head west and search the closest towns in that direction. Finland, can you and Sweden drive south? It's possible he took refuge by the beaches. Norway can go north, the only thing east are the islands and there is no way Denmark would think about walking across the bridges. He would be to vulnerable."

Finland and Sweden nodded in sync, eyes alight with unrivaled tenacity as the strode towards their assigned car. Norway was hot on their heels, determined to fix the problem he had caused. Iceland exited the room a few paces behind, calling to Mr. Puffin for company.

* * *

The rapidly fading daylight did little to distract Norway from his task of finding the missing Dane. He had driven through town after town, and each yielded no results. The Norwegian had just driven into Copenhagen when he had a sudden epiphany. Denmark wasn't stupid enough to wander around the country with no clue of his whereabouts. No, he would go somewhere familiar, somewhere he'd been before.

With newfound resilience he sped further north in the direction of Tivoli Gardens. The last of the visitors were trickling out one by one, exhaustedly staggering towards the parking lot. Norway watched from his car as the park guards showed the last guest out and closed the gates. He slumped sullenly in his seat as he realized only a fool would be willingly trapped in an amusement park all night.

On top of his failed search of the park, the sun had almost set and Norway was running out of time. He drove aimlessly around the city, parking the car briefly in order to check his phone. The lack of calls or texts signified the other nations were having just as bad of luck, if not worse. The Norwegian frustratedly slammed his hands on the steering wheel and dug his nails into the black leather. There was no where else Denmark would go! There was no where else they had visited— wait.

The mermaid statue.

Norway slammed the acceleration and the car jumped forward, hurtling through the empty streets at a speed that was far above the limit. He pulled into an empty parking space and sprinted up the path. Winded quickly, Norway slowed to a jog as his breaths became more erratic and unsteady. Whether it was from the long distance or fear of not finding Denmark, he didn't know.

After ten minutes of a brisk walk Norway glimpsed the head of the statue over the horizon. He neared the rock where the metal figure rested, and the Norwegian felt his heart plummet. He frantically scanned the area for the tall nation, but to no avail there was no sign of bright blue eyes or a black trench coat.

Norway was just about ready to surrender and head home when out of the corner of his eye he noticed the sun's rays glinting off of an object not ten feet away. He hesitantly approached the spot only to find that the thing creating the glint was not an object, but hair.

 _Blonde_ hair.

* * *

 **I'm too tired to give any excuses for why this was late, honestly I was just lazy and lacked motivation. Sorry!**

 **BLOOPERS:**

"We're g'nna spl't up 'nd look f'r clues." Sweden pointed towards Finland and then gestured to himself. " Daphne 'nd I 're g'nna go s''th." Sweden, now dubbed Fred, followed Daphne out the door.

"Velma, you go west. I'll head north." Velma nodded and called Mr. Puffin, nodding to Norway as he left. Norway sighed and rubbed his hands together. Now for the hardest task, finding shaggy.

 **The minute I wrote Sweden saying that they were going to split up I immediately thought of Scooby Doo. If you don't know what that is then you've never had a childhood. I dunno, maybe it's just a silly American thing. The only one of the gang left was Scooby himself and there was no way I could see Norway as playing him.**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Norway crept forward and with wide eyes and watched as Denmark stood up from the ledge he had been crouched on and slowly rotated to face him. The setting sun illuminated his features and shone on his golden locks, giving him a regal and composed air. His eyes looked everywhere but the Norwegian, opting instead to remain fixed on the sidewalk below. "Norway, I—"

"What the _hell_ Denmark?!" The Dane broke off his staring contest with the pavement and jerked his head towards the disgruntled Norwegian. He furrowed his brow and bit his lip, chewing it nervously. Norway clenched his teeth as his face flushed red, not even bothering to conceal his anger. "Who gave you the _right_ to run off and then act like nothing happened?!"

"I'm t—"

"No! You don't get a say in this matter!"

"Norge, I'm tr—"

"Just shut up you stupid Dane! I don't want to hear—"

"NORWAY I'M TRYING TO APOLOGIZE!"

Norway paused mid-rant to stare dumbly at the Danish man's furiously blushing face. Denmark sucked in several calming gulps of air and shoved his hands into his pockets. "When I first remembered that I was a country, I was furious at you for putting me through all that shit." Norway scowled and attempted to protest his statement, but the Dane plowed on. "Then I started to recall everything else that happened. I remember you, Sweden, and I running around as vikings, I remember all of the fun and exciting times that we've started, and I remember being a douche to you guys during the Kalmar Union. But above all, I remember you, Norway."

The Norwegian gazed up at the Dane, trying to decipher the mix of emotions that spun and fought for dominance in the depths of his stunningly blue eyes. Denmark's stare became warmer as he stepped closer, his smile melting into one of affection. "While I was sitting, everything I love about you came back to me. It was like I was seeing you for the first time, sarcastic attitude cast aside." Denmark eyes took on a mirthful gleam as Norway snorted in agreement. It rapidly faded, morphing into a serious expression in a matter a seconds

"Your eyes, your hair, your habits and quirks, everything that makes you who you are, I love that about you."

"I love _you._ "

Norway's breathing quickened as he searched for any sign of deceit to appear on the Dane's face. He dared not hope Denmark had been sincere. There was no way, not possible… "Are you lying to me? Because if you are, I swear to—"

Color burst to life on the Norwegian's cheeks as he felt hands cup his jawbone and pull him into a deep and passionate kiss. At first he stared on in shock, studying each freckle that adorned the Dane's face until he felt Denmark begin to pull away. Norway quickly grabbed the Dane's face and captured his lips in his own, fusing together like the last piece of a puzzle. The kiss was sweet, warm, and loving, just how Norway had imagined it to be.

Time seemed to slow down as Norway broke away, gasping as he filled his starving lungs with much needed air. Once the depleted organ had been filled, he turned to the awkwardly fidgeting Dane. "Soooo, does this mean—" Norway cut him off with a harsh whack to the back of his head. He then ruffled his hair with a fond sense of affection as Denmark whimpered like a kicked puppy.

"Of course, idiot. I love you too."

Denmark instantaneously straightened from his bent position and beamed blindingly at the Norwegian. He bounded forward and wrapped the protesting man in a bear hug, taking precautions not to muss the Norwegian's hair. After a few short seconds, Norway finally admitted defeat and leaned onto the Dane's chest, hiding a smile in the red and black fabric.

For how long the two stayed frozen in that position, Norway couldn't tell, nor could he care much to figure it out. All that mattered was that Denmark was back, and in his arms. The Norwegian's only movement was to text the other nations their location and guide Denmark over to a nearby bench. He then proceeded to doze on the Dane's shoulder, allowing warm fingers to comb through his hair.

In no time at all, Sweden, Finland, and Iceland were rushing up the path towards the seated nations. Norway shut his eyes with a groan, answering more questions was the last thing he wanted to do. Feigning sleep was obviously the most suitable option. Denmark saw right through his act, and to Norway's immense gratitude, brushed away the bombardment of inquiries with a nod towards the 'sleeping' Norwegian.

It was then the comfortable atmosphere proved to much to handle as Norway felt his consciousness slip away. Enveloped in the pleasant equilibrium of the warmth that radiated from Denmark's trench coat and the chill of the night, the last thing the Norwegian felt was soft lips brushing his forehead and heard three whispered words.

 _"_ _Love ya, Norge."_

—

Norway stood in solitude under a lone tree, thinking back to the chaos that had occurred four months prior. After he had fallen asleep on the park bench, Norway found himself blinking sleep out of his eyes in his room and Denmark leaning over him, sun shining through the window behind him. The Dane had explained that all had been resolved overnight, the other Nordics had been filled in and had their fair share of time to yell at him.

The Norwegian breathed a wistful sigh as he remembered when interaction between Denmark and he was less awkward. Norway was lost and flustered when the Dane walked into the room, now that his feelings had been unveiled. It wasn't hard for even complete strangers to realize how in love the pair were, but the two weren't exactly dating either.

Norway leaned back on the tree and tilted his head upward, shouting his eyes and reminiscing on easier times. He was promptly jolted out of his thoughts by the tell-tale sound of footsteps snapping the grass underfoot. The Norwegian blushed once he realized who it was, yet rapidly stowed it away when Denmark approached. "Hey, Norway! What're you doing?"

Norway slid his eyelids open in order to locate the tall idiot. _His_ tall idiot. Denmark bounced up to the tree and wrapped the smaller man in a one-armed hug. Norway returned it gratefully, the Dane's presence was enough to comfort him and chase his tumulting thoughts away. "Just thinking."

"What about?" Norway's only response was to shrug and lean further into the Dane's built frame. The Norwegian was content to stay in the position they were in, and grunted in dissatisfaction when Denmark shifted away. His protests faded into nonexistence when a large grin erupted on the Dane's face.

"I have something special for you, Norge." Denmark ignored the Norwegian's inquiries and deliberately pulled a crudely wrapped package out of his coat pocket. The Dane pressed the paper encompassed gift into Norway's cupped hands. The package was small and compact, fitting easily into the palms of his hands.

Norway carefully tore off the far end of the gift, shoving the excess paper into his pocket so as not to litter. He upturned the package and froze as a metal object tumbled out of the wrapping and onto his hand. The Norwegian stared dumbly at the cross in his palm, identical to the one he had melted all those months ago.

Norway was shaken out of his paralytic state when his view of the cross was covered as a milky pale hand grabbed his. "Norway, you okay? I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I can take it back if you want!"

"I— No, I love it. Denmark thank you, it means a lot." The Dane beamed widely and brushed his lips against Norway's own. Norway returned the gesture with a heavy blush, clenching his hand around the cross possessively.

Norway pulled away from the kiss and he threw his arms around the Dane's neck, tugging him closer to the point where he could see each individual streak of blue in his eyes. Denmark grinned down upon him, gently grabbing the cross from the Norwegian's hand and clipping into his blond bangs. It was then that Norway did something he hadn't done since three long months.

Norway rested his head on Denmark's chest… and smiled.

—

 **The End. I don't know whether to laugh or cry, seriously, I'm feeling very conflicted. Please review, I really appreciate it. Speaking of which, thank you so much for your support through this whole story, logging onto this website and reading your amazing reviews always made my day without fail.**

 **In the span of a week, I will be posting a new story called Notoriously Tactical. I'm really proud of it, if I do say so myself. It's also a Dennor fic, so keep posted and check it out when I post it!**


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